Slipping Away
by syrupjunkie
Summary: AU. Sakura's world is a devastated paradise. She's arrived in Syaoran's dimension to save it from the same fate. There may be no happy endings for her, but what about Syaoran? [Complete]
1. Tunneling

Author's Note:  My third series!!  I just got the idea today to do Sci-fi and I'm gonna do it! Yea!  And I have the ending already thought out; scary considering I don't know how my other series end.  Heh heh.  Please read and review, I want to know how you feel about this; this is probably my favourite series so far to write.  I'm just excite and nervous.  Okay I know that Sakura's character seems OOC; it's all explained next chapter, but you can probably infer the answer from this chapter.

Disclaimer: *scribbling furiously on a poster* 'I own CCS.'  *Turns poster over* 'NOT! =P'   

Slipping Away 

Chapter 1: Tunneling

Li Syaoran watched in fascination; a lustrous pool of energy forming in his living room.  A flat upright circle of liquid metal growing in intensity, its blue light pulsating like a heart beat.  The frantic undulations increased steadily, the ripples like waves beating furiously against the air, a breeze arising in the room.  He reached out his hand tentatively to touch the smooth gravity defying surface when suddenly something emerged from the glowing membrane, slender fingers materializing, lengthening into pale arms into a human body, abruptly expelled with such force that it crashed against him.  He looked disbelievingly at the huddled mass clutched to him tightly, a woman about his age, gasping for air.  Sounds from the glowing portal echoed in the apartment:  muffled footsteps, faraway shouts getting closer and closer.  He wondered who they were.

As if she heard his thoughts, the woman gasped out 'the corps.'  She lifted her face to meet his, piercing green boring into his soul for an instant before she twisted her head toward the opening.  She reached immediately into her clothes pulling something rectangular and metallic, clasped expertly between her index and middle fingers.  Flinging it into the threshold where it floated impossibly weightless, emitting its own yellow glow; she breathed falteringly, "Close."  The metallic rectangle glowed a little more intensely, the gate dimming greatly but still holding a faint metallic sheen.  She coughed heavily, blood splattering onto her hands, the rich, red liquid streaming down her pale skin, ethereal in the supernatural glow of the portal.  Breathing deeply, she found her voice, commanding in a strong and yet gentle voice.  "Close!"  This time, the doorway dimmed to black, the rectangle bursting an incredible light, golden threads exploding in all directions to attach themselves to the edges of the oval window.  Quickly, the threads tightened, pulling the doorway in on itself, the disk collapsing like folding origami, smaller and smaller until a blinding green flash flared forth leaving nothing of the gateway but a few lighted glimmers drifting to the floor.  

In the dim moonlight, Syaoran was barely able to make out the figure on him, the shock preventing him from moving.  He looked down at her, the faint outlines of a grimace of pain overtaking her features, a trail of blood dripping from the corners of her mouth down her chin and sliding its way along her neck before disappearing under her shirt. She panted heavily, her body wracked by convulsions, her coughing expelling more of her lifeblood, a few drops escaping her hand and landing on Syaoran's shirt.  She barely made out her words, "Gomen Syaroan" before she fell unconscious.

_______________________________________

Syaoran sat on his couch, his mind reeling with questions, his hands automatically wiping away the blood from this woman's face with a towel.  She stirred unexpectedly under is light movements, eyes snapping open, again the soul burning stare meeting him.  She quickly turned her head to the side, a cough spraying blood onto her hands as she desperately tried to prevent it from splattering on the floor by pressing her palm flat against her open mouth.  "Are you okay?"  It was stupid question; obviously she was anything but okay, but that was all his mind could form.

            She nodded slightly, deftly reaching with a trembling hand into her jacket, biting her lower lip as to prevent the scream of pain emerging in her throat.  Taking out a small cylindrical vial, she quiveringly placed it to her lips, biting down hard on the plastic cap, and swallowed the harsh liquid that oozed out.  Syoaran could feel her body immediately quieting, her breathing becoming less ragged and her coughing subsiding.  She brought her eyes back to Syaoran's face, her blood reddened lips brought into a weak smile, her emerald eyes twinkling with an emotion so obvious and intense that it startled him…love.  "It's been a long time since I've seen you."  As if floodgates had opened, she flung herself into his arms, her sobs muffled in the folds of his clothes.

Syaoran couldn't grasp any of this, his arms unconsciously circling her heaving figure, but his mind still a chaotic mess of unanswered questions and conflicting emotions.  How did she know his name?  Did he meet her before?  Who is she?  Where did she come from?  He picked a random question out of his mental list, whispering it gently into her ear, the sound of his own voice, unusually tender even to himself.  "Who are you?"

She sniffled, releasing her strangle hold on his shirt, straightening to look him in the eye, her eyes misted with an indeterminate mix of grief, love and joy.  "I am Sakura."  It was simple statement, but something about it seemed to provide Syaoran with all the answers he sought for at the moment.  "Sakura Kinomoto."

After a brief silence, curiosity took over him again.  "What…where did you come from?  How…?"

Her smile broadened even more, a trace of the sadness still present behind her eyes.  "Tunneling."  She suddenly yawned, her body falling back onto the couch.  "Can I explain things in the morning?"

Syaoran merely nodded; his mind a mass of jumbled thoughts. "I'll get a blanket."

"Arigatou.  Oyasumi Syaoran."  He turned around to ask her how she knew his name, but found her already asleep, her features overtaken by the rest she seemed to so desperately need.  

He turned around and quickly found a quilt, pulling the thick covering about her body.  He watched her breathe in silent contemplation; what are the chances that a beautiful woman would appear in front of him, from a glowing portal no less?  And a woman that seemed to know him and strangely care about him so much?  The only romance he ever conceived was with numbers, grasping the esoteric equations demanded by his job as an engineer, doomed to an existence of throwing himself into a clutter of numbers and theorems.  He didn't know why, in fact he didn't know anything at the moment, but he kneeled by Sakura's side and laid his head on her stomach, feeling the rising and falling of her breaths, the comforting warmth of her body.  He closed his eyes, falling in rhythm with her, noting her fingers instinctively embedding themselves in his hair.  He slept, dreamless, strangely complete.

______________________________________

Syaoran's eyes stirred, amber opening up to the peach hue of morning light filtering through the gauze curtains.  He shifted his head ready to bury his face into his pillow before registering that his pillow was moving up and down.  Quickly, his head jerked upward, his arms which had found their way to Sakura's sides pulled back.  His head movement caused Sakura's hands to drop to her sides, awakening her.  Her eyes fluttered open to watch him quizzically, the cloud of sleep passing like a translucent sheet across her face.  She smiled achingly sweet, bringing her hands up to Syaoran's cheek, her light touch gliding across his skin.  Lifting herself up, she wrapped an arm around his neck, laughing at his yelp of surprise.  "Ohayo Syoaran."  Before he could answer, her lips were pressed against his, searing his senses.

Syaoran felt like he was falling, his consciousness drifting into the background, the only thing in his mind, the electric feeling firing from the nerves in his lips, the soft yielding of Sakura's mouth, the pleasant warmth that spread across his body.  He leaned in without awareness, deepening the sensory onslaught.

The veil of sleep cleared, the hazy fog dissipating from the recesses of Sakura's mind.  Clarity as bright as the morning sun flashed through her senses, her eyes widening.  This was not Syaoran, and yet it was, the same lips.  She hastily pushed Syaoran away from her, tears forming at the corner of her eyes, her form shaking from an anguished awakening of feelings she hoped would stay buried.  "I'm very sorry, Syaoran."

Syaoran's mind reeled back on itself, rational thoughts once again reigning; his immediate reaction to turn a violent red.  He stammered not knowing what to say, pained at the expression on Sakura's face.  "It's okay; I…I'll get breakfast ready, any requests?"

Sakura blinked back the tears, giving Syaoran a small smile.  "Not really.  Call me when you're done."  She walked lightly to the balcony leaving Syaoran to stare after her, the sun streaming through the glass and landing on her slender figure.  In the mild summer morning, she stretched feeling the warmth of the sun dancing pleasantly on her skin.  She leaned against the railing, taking in the city before her, a mass of activity, merchants opening shop, morning joggers, people in apartment buildings waking up, all underneath an endless expanse of azure sky, lit up by the glorious radiance of the sun.  "How long has it been?"  She was answered with a twittering of a bird passing by landing in an adjacent tree.  She smiled, memories of spring and summer resurfacing from the deepest recesses of her mind.  "If only…"  The wish hung in the air, knowing full well that it could not be granted.

Syaoran watched Sakura from the doorway, standing reverently in the morning light.  He finally took full notice of her:  soft auburn hair falling listlessly against her shoulder, heavily patched jeans, an equally mended shirt, now brown with caked blood.  The jacket she wore wasn't patched, the gaping holes exposing bruised and scraped flesh underneath, a deep scarlet gash down one arm, dark violet blothes scattered around the base of her neck trailing downward.  She looked like she'd returned from a war.  But she was smiling now, and that, for some reason in his opinion, was all that mattered.  "If what?"

Sakura turned around, her smile fading a bit.  "It's nothing.  If breakfast ready?  Smells good."

_________________________________________

Sakura toyed with her food, taking small bites every now and then, casting glances at Syaoran who was equally immersed in staring at his food.  She decided to break the silence, time being too precious to waste.  "So…I'm guessing you want to know everything?"

Syaoran looked up at her, meeting her calm gaze with a half nod "Actually, I wanted to ask you first how you knew my name.  Did we meet before?"

Sakura dropped her gaze, the familiar pang of pain wrenching her insides.  "No, it's just that…It's just too complicated explain.  There's a lot to tell you."

"I have all morning."

"Make that all morning and all night; this is going to be a long explanation."  She laughed lightly at something only she knew, half in amusement, half at the confused expression on his face.  "You're just like him you know; no sense of time whatsoever."

__________________________________

Author's Note:  Well, was it written okay?  I felt inspired.  How's the plot?  The next chapter explains everything; hopefully I can get right on it, but I still have 2 other series to write for; damn my impatience to post stuff. Can someone help me with a summary for this that's actually good?


	2. Laid Bare

Author's Note:  Another chapter, another deadline past…so close this time, so very close this time.  To **Jurei**: you're right; I like writing heavy drama, desperate fics; there's something about the emotions that can be so intense.  It's so very interesting.  I'm still a sucker for happy endings, but I'm warning you, this will not be a 'happily ever after' story, at least, not the way it seems like it could be. Also, A big thank you to **Misty Showron**, **pokey**,** little blossom**,** Sakura 1301, **and **hey**.  I'm so happy that my little attempt at a sci-fi fic is semi-interesting.  The gaps represent sort of time flashbacks; I don't think it's that hard to get…but I'm the writer, so I can get it…never mind. =P

Disclaimer:  If I own CCS, then I'll eat a pound of butter. 

Slipping Away 

Chapter 2: Laid Bare

Syaoran settled comfortably on his couch facing Sakura laying nearly asleep on the opposite sofa, her figure bathed in the dimmed lights of the living room, face screwed up into a thoughtful look.  "And that's the whole story?"  Syaoran blinked despite himself, trying to process the huge amount of information laid at his feet, a mass of emotions running through him, a stinging pain in his chest, immense sympathy and above all, an overwhelming anger.  Her life was beyond anything imaginable, hopeless, one she didn't deserve.  But everything…it was so fantastical; would anyone help her?  How could anyone believe her story?

_______________________________________

Sakura folded her hands over the dining table, pushing her plate into the center.  "How can I start?"  She sighed, her eyes pleading with Syaoran for a hint.

He shifted in his seat, to have someone like Sakura look to you for guidance, it was unnerving, knowing she depended on you for something.  "Um…how about where you're from."

Sakura smiled wryly, a low mirthless laugh from her throat.  "Ahh…the burning question ne?  I'm from Earth, and yet I'm not."  She gave a sympathetic look at Syaoran's confused expression.  "Don't pout Syaoran; it's very…unbecoming."  Her eyes twinkled at her correct prediction, Syaoran's face immediately tinted crimson.  "I'm from Earth, my Earth, another dimension.  I live in Tomoeda, just like you do, except things are…different.  Each decision you ever make has an infinite number of consequences and thus countless alternate realities.  I'm from just one of these 'what if' worlds."

Syaoran was about to call Sakura insane, and yet that display yesterday night…that wasn't anything of this world.  "But how, how did you get here?"

Sakura replied the same enigmatic answer as the night before.  "Tunneling."  She thought for a while, suddenly picking up the saltshaker and unscrewing the cap.  She poured the white seasoning onto the table, silencing his half protest with a cautioning finger.  Spreading the white crystals into two mounds with a level layer between them, she captured his attention.  "See this?  These two mounds represent two worlds, any two.  And this layer of white?  The fabric of time and space, sounds cliché and fake, but it exists."  Placing her finger from one mound and dragging it to the other, creating a shallow groove, she looked intently at Syaoran.  "This is tunneling.  Each world is interconnected with each other by a channel, a tunnel, sort of.  This goes for all the worlds; I don't know why or how they're there, but there they are.  They remain inactive and unusable like a collapsed tube unless they're somehow opened.  Last year, the scientists on my world figured how to do this, to activate one of these tunnels.  Essentially, the fabric of space-time is sliced open and energy put in, spreading through the tunnel inflating it large enough to allow matter to pass from one end to the next.  I can control the tunnels with remote activators."  Sakura pulled out a rectangular metallic disk, its iridescent surface pure like silver.  "This device helps stabilize the supports for the tunnel, and to control the openings, having them open where want them to appear.  I tunneled here, passing from one of these gates on my world to the one in yours."

Syaoran was trying to absorb this, without success, one question playing in his fore mind.  "But why my world?"

Sakura expected this, her answer overlapping the last words of his question.  "This world is one of the worlds directly connected by one tunnel to my world; it's purely by chance that this world was chosen."

"Why tunnel at all?"

"To save the other worlds.  My world, home sweet home."  The trace of sarcasm dripped from her tone. "It's nothing but a wasteland."  She looked longingly out the balcony, her eyes alighting on the various buildings hugging the sky.  "It used to look like this, green and clean, but that was over twenty years ago.  When YanaCorp took control, all this disappeared, something dead and dark coming in its place.  Scorched fields, starvation, more human misery than you can ever imagine."

"And YanaCorp is what?"  

"A large corporation, makes lots of technology.  Yana Hiroshi's the leader; his company must of owned nearly everything on the planet when I was young."

"Sounds like Microsoft," quipped Syaoran.

"Microsoft?"  Syaoran chuckled lightly, shaking his head in dismissal.  "Anyway, he tried to take power; the usual world domination plot I suppose.  He succeeded, becoming some kind of overlord.  The war was so long, the atrocities more disturbing as the years wore on, more and more people I knew disappearing into the chaos.  Long story short, I've been living in a barren world of nuclear fallout for the past twenty years.  I joined the resistance soon after the end, we've been fighting him for past decade, getting nowhere until recently."

"And that's why you're here?  To escape?"

Sakura smiled dolefully, replying enigmatically.  "There is no escape.  We discovered that his scientists finally found a way to tunnel last year.  I know my world is doomed; there will be no miraculous salvation for its inhabitants, but these worlds, all these innocent lives…they don't deserve to suffer by Yana's hand.  And so we fought our way into his complex and stole one of his tunneling devices.  We've been planning to tunnel for a year now, watching him gather his forces, the corps, preparing to invade another world.  He's coming soon; I needed to warn you.  Unfortunately, they found us as I was entering the gateway; they chased me through, but I closed it in time.  He's probably stepping up his preparations."

"But why me?"  

Sakura gave him a mournful expression.  "Every world has a double in another world right?  I met you, my world's you, years ago.  We fell in love, Kami-sama did I fall.  We were married, the only thing that kept me alive in that living hell.  We were working with the resistance trying to stop Yana.  Syaoran…was killed, in our attack on Yanacorp.  He was brave and compassionate; I figured that you'd be too.  I need you to help, and I had no one else to turn to."  Sakura refused to let the tears out, holding them behind an invisible barrier against her eyes.  

"I…see."  Syaoran felt immensely sorry for her, to have her life barely bordering on livable.  "But what can I do; I'm not…him."

"You can help me; if I collapse the tunnel, the whole network will be destroyed, trapping Hiroshi on my planet."  She hissed the name Hiroshi, venom in her words.  "I can't collapse the tunnel without a great surge of energy; and unfortunately, I can't do it alone.  I need some kind of generator, something to make my remote more powerful.  If we send an energy wave strong enough through the tunnel, it may destabilize its support and send the whole maze down on itself.  I think…" She broke off into a fit of coughing, her body suddenly overcome by convulsive twitches.  Syraoran rushed to her side, leading her shuddering form to the living room, placing a comforting hand on her back, not knowing what else to do.  Sakura reached inside her jacket immediately pulling out a vial.  Once swallowing the fiery liquid, her body subsided, her breathing deep.

"Are you okay?"  Syaoran had assumed that she was injured yesterday from her escape, but to happen again…  "What's in that vial?"

"I'll be fine."  Sakura watched his concerned eyes with a somber smile.  "In the vial?  My life."  She continued, resigned to her fate, never breaking her gaze with Syaoran's eyes.  "I'm dying."  It was a simple statement, and yet powerful beyond the longest of speeches.  "Yana caught me when we broke in to his headquarters.  Among other tortures, he infected me…a virus, something that'll steadily get worse.  There's no cure, but I escaped from his prison soon afterwards, lucky enough to take a crate of medicine with me.  It'll last long enough, for my purposes anyway…"

Syraoran's head stopped spinning with jarring lurch; letting the despair seep deep into his chest.  "Dying?"  She couldn't die; he felt a connection with her; unbelievable as it seemed, he felt absolutely sure, that she was meant for him.  And she was, in a sense, but not.  "You're not going to die.  We'll find a cure, there could be one on my world."

Sakura gave him a plaintive look, smiling reassuringly.  "You do sound like him; never defeated.  Even when you know there's no hope.  Please don't grieve for me; I've already accepted this.  All I have to do is complete my mission and then I can enjoy eternity with my Syaoran.  There's only happiness ahead for me."  She smiled brightly, expertly veiling her sadness, well practiced.

Not well enough.  Anger flared in Syaoran's eyes, a burning hatred.  "I help you.  I'll kill Yana with my hands!"

Sakura frantically shook her head.  "You can't!  I'll deal with Yana, you help collapse the tunnels.  I lost you before, you can't die again.  Besides, I owe it to my Syaoran to do this; I promised him."

Syaoran reluctantly agreed; Sakura's flashing eyes boring into him.  She wouldn't allow him; she would not change her mind.  "I'll agree; only if you focus on getting well."

Sakura nodded, sinking deeper into the recesses of the couch.  "I promise; I'll be fine."  She meant in death; he knew.  It didn't matter.

__________________________________

"Think I'm crazy?"  Sakura eyed Syaoran in the dimness of twilight, a flickering candle casting erratic shadows across the walls and floor.

"No.  I believe you."  Syaoran went silent, his thoughts immersed in watching the pale figure stare intently at him, the fluxing light dancing across her face, accentuating angles and gentle curves.

"Good.  It's late, I'm not going to flood your mind with more stuff today.  Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"What?"  Syaoran didn't know where to start; what could he say about himself that she didn't already know?  She essentially married him.  He blushed at the thought.  "I don't know where to start…"

Sakura tilted her head on the cushion, screwing up her eyes.  "Tell me about your family."

"Sure…I guess.  There's me, my four sisters, my mother, Meiling…"

Sakura chuckled at the expression on Syaoran's face as he said Meiling's name, a cross between disgust and disbelief.  "Is she clingy here too?"

Syaoran joined in with her laughter.  "She's the worst; always attaching herself to you no matter how many times you tell her 'no.'  Is she that bad in your world?"

Her laughter stopped short, her face unreadable for a moment before becoming serene again.  "She was.  She died, a year before Syaoran went."  She shook away the memories, changing subjects, plastering a forced smile on her face.  "How about your life?  Job?  Girlfriend?"  Syaoran let it drop, unwilling to drudge up the painful memories.

_________________________________

The living room clock showed midnight.  Syaoran had gone over his whole life: his years in Hong Kong, being an engineer, moving to Tomoeda four years ago, even his favourite food.  "And then…"  He trailed looking up to watch Sakura, already sleeping soundly curled up in the couch.  He quietly snuffed the candle, moving next to her sleeping body.  Gently picking her up, he carried to his room, the thin streaks of moonlight escaping through the curtains slicing across her pallid features, a stone angel, a dying angel.

_________________________________

Author's Notes:  Review and tell if that was too confusing.  I'm making up the science that goes with this as I go along…*shrugs* maybe it is complicated…  If you're into action, then the next chapter's gonna be fun; it's a flashback to how Sakura lost her Syaoran, and breaking into Yanacorp.  Oooh, I'm so excited.  Happy Holidays!


	3. Intrusion

Author's Note:  Me and my big mouth…sorry about the super long wait…I really have no excuses…  This is a background episode for Sakura and others…I'm not sure if I'm going to put in this world's Sakura in this fic…I really didn't plan to…  Gomen nasai, but I have to split the break in into two chapters…too much stuff to explain. 

Arigato to **Yamashita**, **mya** (you picked it out, tunneling is like sliders and I'm trying not to make this as dark as Separate Existence, but I duuno if I can keep that promise…), **Little Blossom**, **Jurei** (I'm trying to make the action as good as you make yours…not much luck though), **…,** **pokey** (like the author's note…I didn't plan to have this world's Sakura play a big role…but I don't know…), and **Eagle_33** (just call me a trekkie)

To **Rhea-chan**, it's so sad that we won't be able to communicate so often…I miss it.  The next series I start (which may be soon) I will dedicate to you for all your nice words and encouragement.

To **CreatiStar**:  Thank you so much for the award, it's my first and it's so cool…I'm gonna dedicate a series to you too…wonder which genre.  Any preferences?

To **Otaku-hime**, it was so nice you to say that about my writing…I don't know how I can thank you properly…I'll put a big Arigato in the next chapter of 'The Hunt….' 

This chapter is dedicated to **Caoilfionn**: I don't know what it was exactly, but that last review made me start writing again…a big thanks…without you this chapter would not be here now. =)

Disclaimer:  If CLAMP is a painfully thin college student with bags under his eyes, living on microwave delicacies, then I own CCS.

Slipping Away 

Chapter 3:  Intrusion

            The fluorescent light blinked erratically in the frosty night; an irony in itself, for it was powered by the same nuclear material used to lay waste to the land decades before.  That it was snowing was no surprise; it hadn't stopped for the past month, a product of fallout.  What _was_ astounding were the flakes that descended from the decimated skies, pure white instead of the usual gray.  Sakura twirled a few times, catching them in her hands, lifting her eyes to the heavens as if wishing upon a star unseen through the smog and smoke clouds.  She looked around her, a pristine blanket overlaid the crumbling buildings, the oppressive air hanging like a choking fog swirling at her knees.  This was her world; this was her future.  But right now, amidst the suspended snow, under the flickering light of a street lamp, knowing that Syoaran watched her with a smile…she could at least forget momentarily, spinning dizzily in the crisp night.

Li Syaoran was contented with standing in the shadows, two gleaming eyes shaded by the darkness, gazing as his wife enjoyed the unusual snow, something so natural about her simple joy.  "Old memories, Sakura?"

Sakura turned her body to face the seemingly empty darkness of the shadows; she reached her arm into the murkiness extracting a human form from the wraps of black.  "Exactly; I haven't seen white snow since I was five.  Now help me enjoy it before Tomoyo arrives."

Syaoran obeyed willingly, following Sakura under the pale light, standing reverently as the snow drifted about them in a dance beautiful and random.  Sakura pressed herself pleasantly against Syaoran, providing enough warmth for them both.  "Things are looking up tonight."

Sakura's smile dropped slightly, shaded by a dark responsibility.  "Tell me why we have to do this again?"

"Because we have to.  Do you want innocent people to end up like us?"

"Happy?  Sure I do."  She laughed as Syaoran tickled her in reproach.  She straightened herself, her tone instantly grave.  "Fine; I get it…Yana's got to be stopped.  But we always do this, barely getting away with our lives.  We can't escape fate every time."

"But we manage to.  And today's not going to be different."

Sakura's eyes betrayed her innermost fears, the emotion cascading behind the green barrier.  "It could."  She felt his arms tighten around her, subduing the doubt, which yet still lingered like a ghost somewhere inside her.  The snow continued to descend, wonderfully nostalgic yet tragic, like the heavens mourning for someone they could not save.  Sakura shivered, feeling herself being pulled toward the darkness.  "Syaoran, what are you doing?"

"We're not staying outside in the cold; Tomoyo will just have to reach us at home."  He silenced Sakura's developing protest with a quick kiss, only a muffled sigh escaping her lips.  "Home."

In the shadows, they walked until their path was blocked by the cracked concrete of a large apartment building, the formerly ornate gilding and intricate carvings now formless mounds, tarnished and disintegrating.  The building was cordoned off from the rest of the general population with a 'Condemned' sign posted over the entrance, wooden slats fitted haphazardly across any opening on the ground level.  Producing a metallic card-like object, Syaoran placed it flat against the concrete, the rock's solidity suddenly vaporized into a translucent illusion.  "Through."  The card lit up once again, the translucency fading into thin air.  They passed easily into a darkened hallway beyond the threshold, the wall materializing solid behind their passage.

"Syaoran; you know we should save those; they're not supposed to be used unless in an emergency."

Syaoran stuck a finger to Sakura's nose, mildly explaining.  "I know.  Would you have rather have crawled up the ventilator shaft, climbed the garbage shaft and picked your way through the crawl space?"

Sakura sighed in defeat; knowing full well how difficult it was to get in.  The last gash from a loose nail still hadn't completely healed yet.  "I guess you're right.  Let's go."

Their quiet footfalls fell from somewhere within the stairwell, muffled thuds arching through the dilapidated walls and brittle ceilings.  Appearing before a door, they had reached home.  As the door was thrown open, the thick dust left undisturbed out in the hall assaulted them, scattered by the light wind of their movement.  "Home, sweet home."  Sakura's voice held resentment, looking about her, taking her eyes from each memory to the next, some joyous, some violently devastating.  This small apartment was their shelter, the only place that was considered sanctuary.  She headed toward the fogged window as Syaoran lowered himself onto the rickety couch.  She passed the milestones of their lives as she walked:  a dried flower, bought on the black market for their wedding, a worn tie wrapped around a leather bound notebook, the only possessions of her dead father, two faded, thick silk ribbons dangling from a hook, what Meiling wore the day she died.  This was just inevitability.  The sound of movement emanated from the street below, her instinctual reflex to hide behind the curtains.  

Syaoran had lifted his head over the back of the couch, hand reaching for his 'cards.'  "Is it the Corps?"

Sakura snuck a peek at the approaching figures, scanning the darkness for cars or lights.  "No; it looks like some people, probably out hunting for food."  She pulled the curtains shut with finality.  "I guess we wait then?"

Syaoran motioned her closer, taking her pale form in his arms.  "You don't see me complaining, do you?"

Sakura turned to face him, a smile playing on her lips as she lit a candle, the flames dancing across her skin like liquid, eyes sparkling from an unnatural luster.  "And neither am I."  She threw her arms around his neck, staring into the unfathomable depths of Syaoran's eyes.  They neared, impatient lips meeting each other, emotions spanning their connection.  The tranquility was not to last, however, as a sharp knock penetrated the flat.  Sakura released her hold on Syaoran looking toward the door.  "That would be Tomoyo."  Her tone had become flat, matter of fact.  She picked up a 'card' from the table, the metallic rectangular shape nestled between her fingers.  She affixed it flat against the door, commanding, "Reveal."  The door shifted like static, the hard grains of wood disappearing into a translucent mesh.  From the revealed wounds in the door, Sakura peered into the darkened hallway.  

Before the threshold, Tomoyo stood, her face taught with focus, long hair pulled together into a tight ponytail.  She fingered something unseen in the folds of her clothes.  She snapped in her business-like voice.  "I know you're using Reveal.  Open the door so we can see you."

Sakura clicked the locks open, swinging the massive oaken door inward, a draft of foul wind scattering the dust grains across the apartment floor.  "Come in Tomoyo.  Who's with us this time?"

Tomoyo hustled through the doorway, the flaps of her trench coat fluttering in her stride.  Two likewise cloaked figures followed in her stead, faces obscured by high collars.  One had a visible scar on its forehead, the other letting a patch of blood red lips peek out between the lapels.  "I couldn't get Rika this time; the Corps are after her."  Her voice lowered but remained indifferent, precisely trained.  "And you know about Naoko…."  Sakura nodded somberly, remembering their last mission, an unsuccessful campaign against one of Yana's reactors.  "Anyway, I have with me Yamakazi and Azukizi.  This is their first mission."  A low ironic laugh followed her statement.  "Like throwing a child into deep water hoping it'll learn to swim."  She strode rigidly into the small living room, taking a gun from inside her coat.  

Syaoran had risen when Tomoyo entered, quickly making his way down the hall.  He returned with a large chest, depositing it at her feet.  "I could only get 20 rounds; Yana's really got the dealers scared."

Tomoyo nodded curtly, opening the case to reveal twenty cylindrical cartridges embedded reverentially in molded foam.  She expertly loaded one into her gun, jerking her head for Yamakazi and Azukizi to follow suit. 

Yamakazi flattened his collar, a small scar running from his right eyebrow to just around his eye.  His eyes were dull, quiet.  He watched Sakura and Syoaran wearily as he bent down to pick up a cartridge, never turning his back on them.  He removed a small pistol and loaded a cartridge in.  He remained silent, a cold timidity in his manner, refusing to voluntarily make eye contact.

Akizuki had unwrapped her coat, her red lips contrasting ominously with her clothes, her skin smooth and pale, dressed in a black tank top and loose pants.  She smiled faintly if not tragically, as she heard the sharp click from her gun, a polished confection of gleaming silver, the cartridge fitting neatly in place.

Sakura returned with from the kitchen with two identical guns.  Handing one to Syaoran, she gingerly picked up a cylinder, feelings its weight and deadliness in her palm before inserting it.  She shuddered with the sickening feel of the gun as it trembled with its load.

Satisfied that everyone had loaded, Tomoyo removed the remaining rounds distributing them around.  Shoving the trunk into the shadows, she produced a box from her coat pocket.  Taking the lid off, she turned it upside down, sending a mass of metal fluttering to the table.  "Terada was taken last night.  This was all I could get after they ransacked his lab."

Numerous 'cards' laid on the table, all nearly identical except for a central glyph on each one, engraved simply.  She looked at the collection with disappointment, even with Syaoran's cards a pitiful nine cards to be spread among five people, but this was all there was.  They would have to make due.  She separated them into five piles, considering each one before placing them before someone.  "I'm sure you know how to activate these; you've all used them before one way or another.  There are a few new ones you haven't seen before though.  Yamakazi, you've got Quake; its activation code is 'collapse.'  Syaoran, I gave you Sword, command is 'unsheathe.'"  She turned to Sakura watching the latter fascinated by the engraved blue circle on her card.  "It's Shield; it's newly developed and very powerful.  Don't waste it.  Call for it by saying 'activate.'  I've added a thermal adhesive on its back; you'll need it."  Sakura nodded understanding perfectly, having gone through the plan too many times to count.

________________________________________________

The five were gathered around the dining table, poring over blueprints, photos, each step exact, every second counted.  "If we can do this according to plan, Yana's ruined.  Remember; this is not the time for any personal vendettas.  We are stealing his tunneling device and getting out.  Nothing else."  Everyone remained silent unwilling to contradict her, feeling the importance of this mission far beyond their own lives and grudges.  For a second, the atmosphere became lead, frosted over with the discomfort of loss looming ahead.  Tomoyo tried valiantly to boost everyone's courage and lighten the mood; she would be damned if anyone died this time.  "I forgot the introductions."  The grim line of her mouth separated momentarily with a small smile.  It was physically unnoticed, but there was a general lifting of gravity around them.  "This apartment belongs to Syaoran Li and his wife Sakura.  Here are Takashi Yamakazi and Nakuru Akizuki."  Brief 'hellos' were exchanged between the strangers, leaving off in another uncomfortable silence.  Tomoyo sighed; if they were to get out of this alive, everyone needed to know and trust each other.  Besides, the time was a little too early to attack.  "This mission requires trust and knowing your allies.  I'll start.  As you know I'm Tomoyo Daidouji; I head up the resistance movement in this sector.  But everyone here knows me, so let's move on."

Syaoran spoke up first, seeing as how Sakura had quietly backed away from the table in nervousness.  "My name is Syoaran Li.  Sakura's my wife.  We've been in the resistance for nearly 10 years."  He stopped, unable to think of what to say.  What could be said?  He left off at another abrupt silence.

Sakura whispered, barely breaking the deafening stillness.  "We've been living in the underground for nearly 5 years.  I used to be a teacher…kindergarten.  Syaoran was an engineer…a long time ago…"

Nakuru picked up the conversation, her tapping foot getting too loud in the quiet apartment.  "I'm Nakuru Akizuki.  I was an assassin for Yana."  A mirthless chuckle escaped her throat at the surprise on Syaoran's, Sakura's and Takashi's faces', followed by the same enigmatically melancholy smile as before.  "In fact, I was assigned to kill Tomoyo here; as you can see quite plainly, I failed that mission.  For punishment, Yana had me imprisoned and my family murdered.  I escaped through an air vent a couple years back, the bastard too wrapped up in his own power hungry plans.  From that day on, I swore I'd get my revenge."  She cast a quiescent glance at Tomoyo's worried expression.  "Don't worry; my revenge can wait.  This is more important."

Takashi watched as all eyes fell on him, beads of sweat forming under the curious scrutiny.   "I-I'm Takashi Yamakazi.  I was an accountant once, before everything anyway…it all fell apart a few years back when Chiharu was arrested…  I've been lost for a while, until Tomoyo came to me…and now I'm here."  He ended flatly, unconsciously running a thumb over his scar, wincing in some kind of phantom pain.

The kitchen candles flickered in sympathy, dancing with the churning grief that impregnated the room.  Tomoyo stood first, thrusting her gun into her coat, placing her cards into a holder tied around her upper thigh.  "This is it…it's time."

________________________________________________

Water splashed, the sounds echoing through the dark tunnel, bouncing from wall to wall.  A small light pierced the rank darkness, five figures walking briskly through a maze of pipes.  They peered into the blackness, ignoring the putrid smell that inhabits sewers.  Rays of streetlight passed through manhole punctures falling onto the brackish sewage laden water.  The march continued, one step after another, each manhole lid counted before taking a right or a left.  After what seemed an interminable trek, they had stopped at the end of a cul-de-sac, underneath a storm drain.  Weeks and weeks of preparation had come down to this.  They looked upward, meeting a grate, some snow drifting down with the streaming ambient light.  Tension hung thick among them, the accumulation of numerous lives and unfathomable sorrow.  This was the point of no return.

________________________________________________

Author's Note:  I had originally planned to have the whole night in this chapter, but I found myself having to introduce people and places and things…so sorry if this is sort of a cliffhanger.  


	4. Reunion

Author's Note:  *big sigh* this fic's not going the way I planned, chapter wise.  Looks like S+S will be in the next chapter, I felt like going into detail about Tomoyo's, Takashi's and Nakuru's break in.  I feel so bad about what I have to do to S+S next chapter, so I've put in a sort of happy moment in this chapter, unfortunately not a S+S moment…call me a sucker for happy endings, but I am…  Review please?

Thanks to **Riley S** (where have you been?), **Shi no Tenshi**, **Rhea-chan** (hope the wait was worth it…), **pokey**, **Caoilfhionn** (feel free to kick my butt in gear if I start lagging…), **Jurei** (I hope you're well rested; don't be disappointed if the action sequence isn't that good…).

You know this person really has been most gracious to review my fics and I feel unbelievably bad that I've not given them the proper thanks.  So this chapter is dedicated to **mya**.  I really appreciate your input…=)

Disclaimer:  CCS is a wonderful anime, in which I have neither the talent nor the creativity to own…*pops chocolate in mouth*  ov courfse fnot!

Slipping Away 

Chapter 4:  Reunion

Tomoyo's head appeared from an opened drain, swiveling to survey the surrounding lands for The Corps.  Seeing only blackness, she hoisted herself up effortlessly allowing the rest of the group to ascend behind.  "We're a few meters from the perimeter fence."

As they approached the grounds, doubts fended off for so long came rushing back in a wave of unstoppable apprehension.  Would they be able to pull this off?  What they saw _was_ a fortress, in the truest sense of the word, a monstrosity of concrete towering like a massive cube.  A few scattered windows betrayed a glimmer of light, many eyes peering.  Around the main stronghold were scattered countless other low buildings:  weapon armories, soldiers' quarters, security posts.  The imposing fence hummed with evidence of latent electricity.

Yamakazi met Tomoyo's expectant gaze, extracting a card from his pocket.  Flinging it against the fence, the rectangular device sparked to life, its glyph glowing in activation.  "Overload."  The icon became a solid bead of light as it brightened, energy building across its silver skin.  In a flash, the card and the surrounding fence had disappeared into a bubbling pool of molten metal, draining into the soil.

Tomoyo checked her watch, the second hand sweeping midnight.  "Once I activate 'Interference,' you've all got 30 minutes to check your target for the tunneling device and return to this spot.  After that, the alarms will sound and the cameras will turn on again.  If you're not back here in 45 minutes; I'm assuming you've been caught; we'll leave without you."  All bowed their heads in silent acceptance before scattering into the compound.  She looked apprehensively at Yana's tower, the vast cube:  palace, prison, scaffold all in one.  She breathed in the cold air.  The snow had stopped; it was unfounded but she swore there was the taste of death in its aftermath.  She watched the 'x' shaped symbol glint under her touch.  "Disrupt."  The card glowed fleetingly before turning dark, emitting a low humming noise.  She quickly adhered it to the nearest wall, looking at her watch.  Thirty minutes…

___________________________________

Tomoyo looked urgently at her watch, herself flush against a concrete wall.  The fluorescent markers of her timepiece crept by at one-second intervals, her target dead ahead.  And between her current position and her goal was a guard station.  She crept along the shadows reaching the edge of the security post, careful to remain low to the ground.  There was commotion in the small office, disembodied voices drifting past her ears.

"What do you mean the cameras are all out?"

"Sir, just take a look.  They've all just stopped working; there's only static."

"I can see _that_.  Fix it!  If Yana finds out about this, he'll have our heads."

Tomoyo cleared the station, watching not without slight amusement as the panicked silhouettes paced nervously within.  Twenty minutes…  She finally reached her targeted building, its door stolid steel, formidable, cold against her touch.  She fingered her gun cautiously.  There would be an alarm, but they wouldn't hear it for another twenty minutes…  Making up her mind quickly, she pointed the barrel to the lock, anticipating the high whine as the gun charged.  With a quick explosion, a sphere of energy discharged, burning its way straight through the door.  She pushed it open, stopping before a labyrinth of halls.  Fortunately she knew the way by heart:  three flights up, two doors, down the right, two doors left side.  

The halls were deserted, the smell of chemicals in the air, only her slight scraping footsteps and the soft hum of the air ventilation system to break the silence.  Up the stairs…turn right…first door…second door…left side.  The laboratory door was simple wood, surprising, considering everything else seemed to be stainless steel.  A small code access panel flashed its red light, barring her way in.  She knocked on the door, smiling at her correct guess.  The sharp echoes said as much…only a wood veneer…solid steel beyond it.  The gun presented itself as a solution again, bringing it up to full power.  

Burn marks scarred the door, the metal slowly being bored through at an alarmingly slow pace, the barrier much thicker than the previous.  Fifteen minutes…  The cartridge had run out; she inserted another.  At this rate, she'd be caught.  Tomoyo let her head thump against the wall in frustration, hearing the thud reverberate along the tinny surface.  She smiled; the architect must've been an idiot.  She aimed the gun to just underneath the access panel, a gaping hole appearing.  Stepping through she noted the empty space between walls, the two thin metal sheets dripping molten drops.

The laboratory was dark, save for a red warning light flashing over the chemical storage room door.  She quickly scanned the work surfaces, all meticulously cleaned and everything probably stuffed away in a drawer.  Luckily she was looking for something that wouldn't be easy to hide.  She flicked on a flashlight as she ran down the aisles, peering in the darkness for the tunneling machine.  Seven minutes…  "Shit."  She had turned up nothing; it wasn't here.  Looking out to the window, a small army of soldiers were patrolling on their way toward Yamakazi and Akizuki's lab.  This mission couldn't fail.  She picked up a stool, waiting for the force to pass underneath the window before crashing it against the glass.  The shattering pieces dropped from their frame raining down on The Corps.  Amidst shouts from below, Tomoyo charged her gun dashing out the hole into the building's depths.

Footsteps were approaching, hissed commands directing them toward her.  Tomoyo spied the flashlight's brightness as it wobbled closer.  She breathed deeply, tensing her muscles to position.  The stairwell lay directly across from her; she backed up a few paces needing the extra momentum if she was to survive what she had planned.  The circle of light grew larger as its bearer approached Tomoyo's hiding spot.  She hurtled through the darkness, tumbling out into the hall into a kneeling position.  Before the guards had a chance to absorb her presence, she had already discharged two shots, bringing down two guards.  Avoiding their shots, energy burns sliding across her arms, she continued to fire, rolling toward the open stairwell.  Without a second look, she threw herself over the railing into the open abyss falling to the ground below.  She worked her way into her thigh pocket, taking out her last card.  It wouldn't be wasted after all.  "Float."  The cloud symbol awakened with a yellow burst, it's lights' dots swirling about her falling form, pushing up on her feet.  She landed upright softly, taking a split second to catch her breath before charging off toward the entrance.  Rounding the corner, she heard the many footsteps indicative of a patrol.  "Damn."  In one fluid motion she had changed cartridges again, and was blasting a hole through a nearby window.  Ignoring the dripping liquid glass around her, she dived through just as a guard rounded the corner, his weapon discharge flying through the wisps of her hair.  Three minutes…  Her ponytail destabilized, hair cascading about her wildly, streaking across her face with a deadly beauty.  She quirked an eyebrow, twisting her body to face the guard, smirking in triumph in the wake of a burst of energy as she fired off the rest of the cartridge.

It was coming down to the end.  Fifteen seconds…  Tomoyo was near the perimeter fence, dodging the blasts from behind her.  Every now and then a shot would graze her arm or leg bringing forth blood and burned flesh.  Two seconds…  All stood near silence just as the alarms blared their warning, loud wailing filling every crevice of the facility.  Taking advantage of the guards' distraction, she disappeared into a ditch, burying herself in the dirt.  The Corpsmen stood unaware over her, screening the land for her figure.  She held herself still, like a corpse, fearing to breathe.

"Where the hell did that bitch go?"

"I don't know.  You go left; I'll go right."  With that, both guards dispersed into the farther reaches of the complex.  

Completely sure of her relative safety, Tomoyo arose from the pit, letting out a heaving sigh.  She ran straight into the darkness, unaware of the action around her.  The opening in the fence stood before her as her escape.  There was no one else there.  10 minutes until 45…  Through the dark, two figures emerged, encumbered with something burdensome, but nonetheless alive, Takashi and Nakuru.  

___________________________________

Thirty minutes…  Takashi was nervous; with good reason.  Every corner he found himself against the threat of a patrol.  He looked to Nakuru on his right side.  She on the other hand, slinked with confidence, gun still retained in its holster, maneuvering quietly from shadow to shadow, stopping abruptly every now and then.  "Why'd you stop?"

She silenced him with a 'shh' as three Corpsmen passed their hiding spot.  When they disappeared into an adjoining building, she signaled for him to follow.  "First rule in getting in and out undetected:  pay attention to every little detail."  She turned her head back and forth trying to distinguish specific sounds or spot deceptively insignificant clues.  "The spotlights are on the western border; we have two minutes to make our way to the lab before it sweeps around again.  Got it?"  Takashi nodded in silence, both waiting for the sphere of light to move outward.  As it passed, they ran into the shadows, feet crunching on the icy snow.

Nakuru stopped short of the main entrance, holding up a warning hand to Yamakazi.  Hidden in the dark, she silently approached, looking up at the surveillance camera.  They couldn't see her, but just to be sure, she pulled out a pouch from an inner pocket, revealing a cube packed tight, a lattice of grains similar to sand.  Holding it flat in her palm, she blew lightly against the object, the grains suddenly becoming unstable and scattering into the wind like a shifting sand dune. As they descended, the air grew warmer and heavier until only a thick fog could be seen.  

Takashi watched in wonder, surrounded by the mysterious mist, no visibility in any direction.  An arm jutted from the unknown, yanking him forward, jolting him out of his reverie.  Nakuru looked satisfied, letting Yamakazi's arm drop to his side.  "Follow me."

"What was that?"

"You don't get to be Yana's assassin without a getting a few useful…tools."  She put a finger to her lips as she led Yamakazi to the entrance.  

Guards sounded close as they passed, their nervousness apparent in quivering voices.  The one on their right questioned, "What's with this fog?  Where are you?"

A second voice emanated from the other side.  "Still at my post.  I can't see a thing…"

Nakuru reached the door, placing a card flat against the thick barrier.  Three lines blinked as she whispered to the wall.  "Through."  

"Did you hear something?"  The guard moved like he was getting closer to their position. 

She jumped through the translucent door dragging Yamakazi with her, the door materializing behind them, a remnant cloud of fog dissipating into the lit hallway.

_______________________________________

Yamakazi peered cautiously around a corner, gingerly taking a step out into the open.  Beyond the door ahead were the cells, and in that maze of wrought iron was a ventilator shaft that led into the lab.  Before his raised foot fell against the tiles, an arm wound around his neck suddenly, a firm grip restraining his two hands.  He caught the sight of cherry red lips before being forced against a wall.  Nakuru?  A guard appeared, rounding a corner stopping dead at the sight of the two figures.

"Nakuru Akizuki?  What're you doing here?"  He drew his weapon keeping an intense gaze level on her.  He could afford no mistakes; there was a reason she was the best of Yana's assassins.

She merely shrugged a strand of hair from her face, pulling Takashi from against the wall and forcing him ahead of her.  "I'm bringing a prisoner to Yana.  What's it look like I'm doing?"

Takashi's eyes widened, his quiet demeanor lost to an encompassing rage.  "You bitch!  I thought I could trust you."

She smiled coldly, her painted lips thin.  "You thought wrong."  She shoved him a few steps forward, pushing up on the guard.  "Are you going to let me pass?"

The guard remained in their way, weapon still drawn.  "The word's that Yana got rid of you."

A scowl of irritation passed her features.  "Of course he said he got rid of me; how else was I supposed to infiltrate the resistance?"  

The ghostly remnants of intelligence passed through the Corpsman's face, enlightened for a moment before disappearing behind a blank stare.  "You can pass."  The gun returned to his holster, letting Nakuru continue into the cells.  She subdued the struggling Yamakazi with a sharp twist of his arm eliciting a groan of pain.

Turning to a deaf to ear to Yamakazi's venomous curses as he spat threats at her, she directed him into the depths of Yana's personal prison.  "I don't think you're in the position to make threats."

"I knew you couldn't be trusted, you're one of Yana's little pawns.  A coward."

"Whatever you say."  She dragged him down a dark corridor, rows of rusty chambers flanking both their sides.  The sound of dripping water echoed sickeningly through the emptiness, the rank smell of human waste and rotting food hanging repulsively in the air.  The dim lights quivered as the lanterns swayed.  Every now and then, a dingy emaciated face would appear in the light's path, features hollowed out by starvation and distorted by a kind of misery unimaginable.  Takashi reflected grimly that he would be one of them soon enough.

When they had reached an unguarded corridor of prisoners' quarters, the pressure against Takashi's limbs relieved.  He whirled around in confusion, immediately drawing his weapon.  Nakuru remained without emotion, speaking in a low monotone.  "Put the gun away.  We're here to find the air vent."  He blinked despite himself, giving her enough time to snatch the gun from his hand.  "Let's go."  She held the gun out to him; giving him an insistent look. 

Takashi took the weapon offered him, confusion restraining his feet from moving.    "But you're working for Yana…"

A deadly gleam awakened in Nakuru's eyes.  "He killed my family; I've sworn to have my revenge on him.  Pretending you were a prisoner was the only way we could get in her without a fight."

"You could've at least told me."

"It wouldn't have been the same; I needed your reaction.  The guard needed to see the betrayal in your face."

Takashi rubbed his sore shoulder.  "We could've taken the guard out."

Nakuru had to laugh at his naiveté, as if everything was solved by a gunfight.  "And start a firefight here?  This is a fucking armory; there's guards everywhere.  We'd be dead in less than a minute.  We had to do it my way.  We're here aren't we?"  She took off at a brisk pace, boots hard against the concrete ground.

Yamakazi followed wearily behind, taking short glances into the darkened cells, many of which were empty, others with a solitary figure huddled into a corner, unseeing.  "Why aren't these cells all full?"

The detached answer echoed from ahead of him.  "Because this is the last stop before being executed."

Takashi stopped in his step, taking a deeper consideration at a figure half shrouded in darkness, crouched on the floor, leaning listlessly against the farthest corner.  All the prisoners had seemed without hope; this was the reason.  They had accepted that death was their future and given up.  Just then the overhead lamp swung in a wide arc, a flash of illumination baring the huddled mass to his view.  Thin matted strands of hair clotted to the person's dark neck; a feminine figure barely discernable under the tattered rags she wore.  Streaks of dirt marred her features, rimming her eyes and clawing their way across her cheeks.  Takashi stared even harder as the lantern took a second swing.  Bleak eyes met his, the prisoner's mouth trembling with an overwhelming emotion, recognition flickering in her gaze.

Takashi flung himself against the metal bars with an inhuman strength, his voice losing all its support, a hoarse cry amidst a terrible echo of clanging iron.  He thrust his arms into the darkness, a sense of urgency overtaking his actions.  "Chiharu!"  

Nakuru's footfalls stopped immediately then quickened, her running strides taking her to Takashi's side.  "What are the hell are you doing?  You'll alert the guards."

He didn't hear her, instead pressing himself harder against the bars, the rust rubbing an orange smear against his coat.  "Chiharu!"

The figure inside the cell stirred, her frail arms falling from their locked position.  Unsteadily, she crawled toward the bars, a desperateness in her actions.  Her voice was rasping, cracked lips parted in anticipation of the first words she would say in so long.  "Takashi?"  She extended a bony arm to touch his outreached hand, but fell short.  Too weak to support herself, she collapsed forward landing in a heap, a thin trail of tears dripping from the corners of her eyes.

Takashi dropped to his knees, straining his arm to touch the rough skin of Chiharu's face.  His voice softened in profound horror seeing her condition, salty drops staining his cheeks.  "Chiharu."  Resolutely, he straightened, removing his gun, keeping his gaze as the weapon charged.  

Nakuru's grip abruptly pulled him back, sending him face to face with her.  "We don't have time for this.  The mission."

He pulled away with a jerk, discharging against the iron bars, molten metal puddling on the floor.  "Forget the mission."  He rushed into the cell, cradling Chiharu's weak body in his arms, lifting her painfully light figure into his embrace.  "You complete the mission; I'm taking her out of here."  

Seeing no way to convince him to help her, Nakuru sprinted down the corridor.  Fifteen minutes…  

___________________________________

She pulled herself along the ventilation shafts, the smooth cold metal numbing her skin.  She knew this map by heart, taking turns without a second's hesitation.  The striped light glowed before her, facing the lab's air vent.  She watched the various scientists testing machines and mixing chemicals inside, all absorbed in their painstaking work.  Taking off a bracelet, she pulled the beads into her hands, ten round bead-like spheres in the creases of her palm.  She let them drop through the grate, hitting the ground below with light clicking sounds.  Some looked up from their work at the sound, but too late to avoid the effusive green gas.  Within minutes, Nakuru had landed soundless on the tiled floor, carefully avoiding the unconscious bodies at her feet.  Seven minutes…

Her eyes scanned the room wildly, suddenly focused on something on the nearest workbench, a cube-like object about the size of a crate, a raised circle fused to its top.  A small remote lay adjacent; this was it.  She removed her final card, peeling off a little wax backing strip.  Adhering the card to the object, she secured the remote, strapping it to her right calf.  "Float."  Dots of light enveloped the device, brining it a few inches off the table.  She effortlessly shoved it off the bench, the device wobbling up and down before remaining hovering steadily in the air at stomach level.  Five minutes…  She rushed through the maze of hallways, pushing the tunneling machine along with one hand, the other gripped tightly around her gleaming gun.  She blurred past the guards, taking each one down with a seemingly natural pull of the trigger.

_______________________________________

Takashi flew down the cell corridor, Chiharu in his arms.  His last card locked between his teeth, he cursed his luck.  Why couldn't he have gotten Shield?  He reached a dead end, the overhead lantern flickering mysteriously from some unknown influence.  He placed his face near the wall, hoping it was what he thought it was.  As he neared, a low whistling and a breeze of cold air proved him right.  Gingerly propping Chiharu's semi-conscious form against a cell, he slapped the card to the wall.  "Collapse."  Its central yellow zigzag glyph activated, a low rumbling sounding from the wall.  In an instant, the barrier seemed to be not stones, but water, rippling with some power channeled through its matrix.  With a crash, stones cracked and shattered, exposing a gaping wound in the wall.  The night lay beyond, perimeter fence a few meters off.  He picked up Chiharu, taking off as fast as he could, the wire fence coming up in his vision.   Ten seconds….

The sirens wailed endlessly, all hell rising up around him.  He was still a good distance away from safety, the loud echoes of running and gunshots approaching.  Stumbling across the field, tripping over stones, his arms tightened around Chiharu's form, he made for the edge of the compound.

As he approached, a voice shouted from behind him.  "Duck."  The next thing he registered, a mass had crashed into him sending all three figures sprawling to the ground.  He opened his eyes quick enough to catch two energy discharges flying past overhead.  Nakuru stood up defiantly, a plan formed in her mind.  "Take her and go; I've got an idea."  Takashi watched her for a moment before taking Chiharu in his arms, running to the meeting point.  Nakuru gave a quick look making sure the device was still hovering near her.  Seeing its gleam, she whipped her body around to face the approaching Corps.  She directed her weapon to the ground a few feet in front of her, firing a continuous beam of energy.  The vaporized soil impregnated the air with an opaque cloud, choking all life in its path.  She smiled grimly, turning from the thick mist, taking hold of the device and following Takashi's retreating back.  When they both reached the perimeter, Tomoyo was waiting with an anxious look.  "Syaoran and Sakura?"

"Not here yet.  Do you have it?"  

Nakuru brought the device out for Tomoyo's inspection.  "Good.  Who's that?"  She pointed at a limp figure in Takashi's arms.

"Chiharu."  Tomoyo nodded grimly checking herself from reprimanding him for disobeying orders. Inwardly, she allowed herself a small sense of joy; two lives torn apart had been rejoined. 

The minutes ticked by, tension and fear tangible in the air.  Unfamiliar shouts and commands emanated from within the compound, the alarm screaming terribly.  One minute…  A light blinked on from Tomoyo's wrist; time was up.  She caught eye contact with Nakuru and Takashi, giving a mournful nod of the head.  "We have to go."

Nakuru swept her coat about her, walking briskly toward the storm drain, face impassive.  Takashi's shoulders sagged as he plodded after Nakuru, the loss of two lives for one.  He looked down at Chiharu's sleeping form; gazing lovingly at her haggard features.  He was ashamed at his happiness, at the expense of two lives, but for the person in his arms, he would let the whole die without regret.  He too disappeared into the sewer.  Tomoyo gave a last gaze toward Yana's looming palace, dropping her barriers for a second to let a quiet tear slip down her face.  Two more casualties.  "Forgive me; I've failed you."  Her figure faded as she lowered herself into the hole, completely disappearing beneath the surface.  A ghostly echo rose from the grate, haunting in its low quality.  "Forgive me…"

___________________________________

Author's Note:  Rather a long chapter don't you think?  I think the next one's going to be the same length, but then again, I don't know anything…*sticks out tongue*  oh well, next chapter is definitely S+S, may a thousand needles prick me until I die, if I should break this promise.  Quick…which episode is that quote from? =)


	5. Breakdown

Author's Notes:  I feel so bad about this late posting but it's been hell this week…enough said.  I was in a horribly mushy mood so it starts out sappy… I decided to tone down the torture and stuff to a minimum…not too graphically disturbing… Feel free to hate Yana; I based him on myself…doesn't that say something about me? =)

Thanks to **Hikari Silver**, **mya** (you deserved the dedication), **pokey** (take two aspirins and call me in the morning**), jurei** (I reviewed the tournament…very good, sorry this has taken so long to get posted), **cherry kawaii wolf**, **Caoilfhionn** (when am I going to start seeing something from you?), **Little Blossom**, **Rhea-chan**, **Riley S** ('hunted' is good, don't you dare stop…)

Big thanks to **Rhea-chan** and **Unicornhime** for both beta-reading this chapter.

Well the dedication will be to **… **despite the fact that I don't know if you're the same **… **that reviews my other fics.  Either way, this chapter's for you!

Slipping Away 

Chapter 5:  Breakdown

Slinking low to the ground Syaoran and Sakura pulled themselves along the wall.   Mentally ticking the minutes by, they crept cautiously under the gaze of the spotlight, hands squeezing hands in assurance.  The ground dipped as they traversed ditches and rolling hills, the icy grass crunching under their footfalls.  A thin plume of barely visible white danced in the moonlight, breath crystallizing in the cold.

Sakura whispered lowly, her words almost indistinguishable.  "How much time do we have?"

Syraoran flicked on a blue glow, tensing as the hands swept across the face.  "Twenty minutes."  He gripped her hand tighter, footfalls increasing to a jog.  "We have to do this quick."

The edge of a building came up on them, towering stories above their heads.  The thick smell of smoke and tobacco hung stale in the air, deep inhalations sounding from around the corner.  Syaoran gestured with his eyes, darting from the corner to a shadow lined alcove a ways off to their left.

Sakura nodded in comprehension, fingering a length of cord tied around her waist.  As Syaoran's form disappeared from her side, slipping into the enveloping darkness.  For a minute she stood alone uncertain, but quieted her fears as a thin stream of snowy breath drifted from the dark recess, knowing confidently Syaoran was waiting flush against the brick wall.  Slowly she bent over and took up a small pebble into her hand, pausing momentarily before throwing it past the corner, hearing it click a few times against the paved asphalt.  The odor of smoke increased, as footsteps made their way toward her rigid form.  The red-hot end of a cigarette jutted from the corner as its bearer turned to face her.

The florid scientist rose en eyebrow, face set in a suspicious gaze.  "Who are you?"

Sakura thought quickly, trying to draw the man closer to Syaoran's hidden form.   "Oh, I was just wandering…in the woods, and I guess I got lost."  

The man looked disbelievingly at her, arm reaching out to brush against a panel along the wall.  "And you just happened to get through the perimeter fence?"  Sakura's eyes peered deep into his, averting suddenly to watch his stocky fingertips graze the alarm button.  Click.  The button bounced back into place quietly, the silence tense between the two.  He creased his eyebrows in wonder, muttering under his breath.  "Why didn't the alarm sound?"  Leaning in toward the instrument panel, he scrutinized the buttons, all glowing and appearing functional; his eyes fastening alternately on the alarm button and Sakura's form.  His momentary interest drew him from realizing a menacing hand materializing above him from the shadows.

Sakura drew her eyes closed as a quiet crack and thud resounded into her ears.  Blinking a few times to dispel the sudden onslaught of light, however dim it was, she watched Syaoran leaning over the unconscious man, Syaoran's gun finding its way back into the holster.  Syaoran's voice reawakened her, drawing her to the prostrate man, helping him remove the while lab coat and searching pockets for anything of use. 

"Help me hide him."  Syaoran had already thrown the coat over his body, placing the unconscious man's identification crookedly on a lapel, picture hidden from view by white cloth.  He dragged the scientist into the alcove, straightening his newly acquired clothes.

Sakura looked thoughtfully at the insensible man, his features serene.  Silently she regretted anything she had ever done to hurt others, all the lives that must have suffered each time she undertook a mission.  A curious blinking caught the edge of her visual perception; she looked toward the flickering illumination, her head swiveling to find Yana's cubed fortress.  One of the uppermost windows flashed erratically and somehow painfully.  Her mind closed itself off from the feelings washing over her, disgust, nausea, anger.   Yana.  Suddenly, the scientist bundled before her wasn't as serene, the compassion leaving her.  Deflty, the cord untied itself from her waist, twisting into loops and knots around the man's hands and legs.  Removing a coarse strip of fabric from around her thigh, she gagged him, leaning his heavy form against the walls, careful to hide his body in the shadows.

Syaoran signaled over to his wife, cautiously raising two fingers for her to join him.  He had stopped close to a guard station, listening carefully to the movements of the Corps ahead.  Sakura appeared at his elbow, mouthing 'fifteen minutes'.  The Corps seemed to be getting closer, the echoes of talking bouncing off the walls and coming from everywhere.  Syaoran raised his gun anticipating the appearance of guards.  He almost fired as a jerk pulled him backward spinning around wildly, his hand banging into the wall, gun clunking onto the snowy ground.  He started incredulously at Sakura as she pinned him against the bricks.  "Sak…"

Lips cut off his breath, as Sakura leaned forward, kissing passionately, rubbing up against him.  Syaoran drifted somewhere between confusion and pleasure as Sakura ground against him, seemingly almost in panic.  He didn't understand what was happening.  As he moved his arms instinctively to encircle around her, a gruff voice called out.  

"What's going on?"  Sakura broke off the kiss immediately, turning a flushed face to the smirking guard.  Syaoran turned with her, something like an explanation forming in his mind.  The guard looked up and down Syaoran's form, appraising the haphazardly placed identification badge and white coat.  "You know the rule; no uncleared people are allowed inside."  He pointed to Sakura, her coat open to the breeze, pale skin glowing in the fluorescent light, repulsion in the Corpsman's gaze.  "Especially whores."

Sakura quickly pressed hard against Syaoran's arm, feeling his anger peak dangerously, his muscles poised to attack.  She looked into the stranger's face, forming a seductive look with her lips, narrowing her eyes, forcing a sultry air into her words.  "Do you think we could have some privacy?"  Conveying her warning to Syaoran wordlessly, she left his side, approaching the guard with a tempting sway.  She pouted up at him, inwardly disgusted with herself, feeling the degradation.  "Pretty please?"

The Corpsman looked down at Sakura's face pleading with him.  His hands reached out, his eyes clouded over with lust.  He brushed up her arms leaning his face close to her lips.  Closing his eyes, a hard force shook him back, red light sparking to life and fading as he fell insensible to the ground.  

Syaoran opened his fist, rubbing the pain away from his knuckles.  He glared at the prostrate guard, holding back the urge to kick him.  "Bastard."  Turning quickly, he faced Sakura's trembling form.  "Are you okay?"

She nodded quietly, unconsciously kneading her skin roughly at where the guard had rubbed against her.  Staring ahead she merely drew her coat around her, motioning to Syaoran to start moving.  "We're probably down to ten minutes."

Syaoran caught Sakura's arm as she tried to walk, drawing her close to his body.  He whispered down to her, filling her drained eyes with assurance.  "You didn't have to do that.  I could have…"

Sakura interrupted, turning her face shamefully to the prone man.  "No, he was coming up from behind you; you wouldn't have had a chance.  I did what I had to."

"But…"  Syaoran trailed off, seeing no way to arguing this.  He pulled her in to touch a flitting kiss against her cheek.  "I love you."

She faintly smiled, her cold shell falling off.  "Of course you do."  She giggled quietly as his fingers tickled her sides.  "But we've still got a mission to do."  Her lips returned to their thinness as Syaoran's body tensed with the prospect of laid ahead, unconsciously locking his now regained gun into its holster.

_______________________________

The door swung open with a silent motion, the air picking up in its wake.  A small shaft of light pierced the thickness of the darkened laboratory, flitting from wall to wall in a hurried search.  Seven minutes…

Sakura wrenched her attention randomly, craning her neck to peer hopefully into the darkness.  Her voice whispered in the stillness, holding a trace of apprehension.  "I don't see it; maybe it's in the one of the other labs."  Syaoran nodded in silent agreement, the flashlight dying with a soft click.  Sakura sought his form in the dark, fingers entwining themselves, as they silently crept to the door.  As they neared, the sound of scraping boots against the floor rose up to meet them.  "It must be the Corps."  Instinctively, both had flung themselves against the wall, flush next to the door.  The footsteps had taken a louder quality, marching amongst many, all nearing the lab door.  Syaoran cursed quietly under his breath, white coat abandoned at his feet, gun drawn and pointed to the metal door.  Sakura followed suit, both sets of eyes intently watching the shadow of feet disrupting the light illuminating from underneath the door.  Five minutes…

"My, my, what do we have here?"  Both Syaoran and Sakura jerked involuntarily in surprise, whirling around, weapons drawn to face a shadowed figure at the opposite end of the lab.  The lights awakened with a harsh wince, casting angular rays at the now exposed form.  "It seems I have some unexpected visitors."

Syraoran growled deep in his throat, gun discharging without warning.  The energy blast hit the man dead center, but seemed to dissipated around him, flowing past him without doing injury.  He cursed through grinding teeth.  "Yana…"

The man smirked, a triumphant twisting of the mouth baring his teeth.  Wiping away a wisp of long brown hair from his face, he removed a card from his pocket, blue circle glowing brightly.  "Guns won't work while I have this.  Besides, men shouldn't hide behind technology.  I'd much rather prefer a good old fashioned duel."

Sakura tugged at Syaoran's elbow desperately, casting glances to the silent door.  "Syaoran…"

Yana merely smiled indulgently, shaking his head in a mock mournful fashion.  "I wouldn't dear.  There's quite an army out in the hall."  He jerked a thumb behind him.  "That's the only way out of here unharmed…behind me."  Drawing out two cards, he laid a challenging gaze on Syaoran.  "Guns may not penetrate the energy shield, but swords do.  I'll make you a deal; you defeat me, you're free from such a horrible monster."  He pouted lightly, eyes gleaming with malicious mischief.  "You lose, and well, you lose.  I'll make sure you have a nice burial.  So is it a deal, Syaoran?"  Yana sneered at his opponent's name, holding out a card.

Syaoran rapidly raced through his options, none of them guaranteeing safety.  He looked forlornly at Sakura who was shaking her head violently.  He bit his lip as he knew what his only choice could be.  "Sakura…"

Sakura shouted with blind passion.  "You can't!"  She held tighter onto his body, hastily taking out her only card.  "We can use this!  And run!"

Syaoran shook his head mournfully, knowing full well the card could not sustain two beings.  He inwardly apologized as he set out to do what he had to do.  He took the card gingerly from Sakura's grip, closing his eyes, bracing himself for the worst.  "Activate."  The blue icon blinked to life, energy surging through its rectangular matrix.  Quickly, he pressed the card flat against Sakura's palm, watching as her surprised figure was bathed in an unnatural light.  "You have to go Sakura.  Run."

Sakura pulled desperately at the card, the thermal adhesive bonding her to Shield.  "I won't Syaoran!  I won't leave you here to die."

Yana cleared his throat, head cocked to the side in petulant sympathy.  "Ah, to be young and in love.  Where have all the years gone?"  He shook his head dramatically, eyes unseen.  "But he is right, Sakura is it?  Syaoran is right; you can run, right now and with Shield, you can't be stopped.  And…your Syaoran _may_ just win against me."  An arrogant complacency swept across his face as he rose his eyes to peer at the two stricken intruders.  "After all, anything's possible."

Syaoran took hold of Sakura's shoulders in a firm but gentle grasp.  His eyes pleaded with her, her feet making a tentative move to go.  "That's right Sakura; you have to go now.  I promise you I'll be fine.  Go."

Tears rained from Sakura eyes as her vision of Syaoran distorted and shrunk.  She walked unsteadily toward the door, her gaze never leaving her husband's form.  Brushing by Yana she shuddered at his sienna gaze, the unnerving smile still on his face.

Yana inhaled deeply, face almost jovial in anticipation.  "I can't tell you how long I've waited to have another duel.  Unsheathe."  The green arrow glyph flickered, the metallic card gleaming as if wet, solidness becoming liquid, stretching and compressing until a long sword appeared in his grasp.  He waved the weapon with a flourish catching the reflection of the halogen lights on the deadly surface.  He held out a second card to Syaoran.  "You want one?"

Syaoran narrowed his eyes in caution as he fought back swelling anger.  He retorted icily, tone dangerous.  "No, I have my own.  Unsheathe."  His own card drew into a sword, held out defensively before him.  One minute…

Sakura stood in the doorway unwillingly, her feet no longer able to take her away from Syaoran.  She watched in horror as both figures met in the middle of the lab with a metallic crash, ringing across the deadly stillness.  Yana may have been older, but he was still in good shape, attacking and slashing at Syaoran, maniacal gleam in his eye.  She caught Syaoran's insistent eyes once as he thrust toward Yana, only to be skillfully blocked.

Yana bent his elbow cushioning another attack from Syaoran.  "You're pretty good…"  The lights dimmed once and burst again to full intensity as an overwhelming wailing of sirens overtook the compound.  "But not good enough."  Yana plunged forward just as Syaoran's attention wavered, the sirens distracting his senses.

Sakura's scream pierced the thick chaos of sound, the alarm nearly mute in the face of her anguished cry.  She ran back into the lab, pushing herself to go faster, everything around her melting into oblivion.  She crashed into a triumphant Yana, hastily shoving him from her path without any realization of her actions.  Sliding onto her knees, she bent over Syaoran's body, the hilt of a blood spattered blade protruding from his chest.  His eyes glittered as his lifeblood oozed around his wound to the floor, his lips parted in struggling to speak.  He rasped out a single word, speaking infinite volumes to Sakura.  "P-Promise."  

Sakura wiped her tear stained cheeks, as reality seemed to slip from her grasp, Syaoran's last word echoing in her mind as his dead body lay cradled in her shaking crimson tainted hands.  She noticed nothing around her, not Yana's voice in the lab, not the pounding of feet, not the commands dictated to her from above.  She blinked, unending tears the only evidence of her even feeling her loss.  "I promise."  The butt of a gun crashed down against the back of her head, the sudden pain lost to unconsciousness, her body slumping to lay over Syaoran's.

____________________________________

A dim orange colour swam distantly ahead of Sakura's half lidded eyes, the lantern making a slow arch, casting its dull radiance into the cell, flashing against metal chain before withdrawing into darkness once again.  Sakura lay cold and stiff on the stone ground, hay bristling against her skin.  Red rimmed her eyes as the green orbs swallowed up her pupils, watching something unseen in front of her.  Hoarsely, she whispered into the darkness, the soft rasp of her voice contrasting with her earlier heart wrenching sobs.  "I promise."  She neither stirred nor even took notice of a sharp ring at the front of the cell, a tall shadow cast strikingly into around her.

A man's sing song voice called out to her.  "Sakura?  Are you awake my dear?"  

Sakura flinched involuntarily under Yana's question, closing her eyes and invoking Syaoran's image.  She filled with horror as his features faded, the full realization of his death sinking in.  Sitting up, fists clenched white at her sides, she slowly met Yana's crimson gaze, taking ragged breaths.  Without warning, she leapt against the bars, metal pressing into her flesh as she clawed at Yana's face.  "You monster!  I'll kill you!"

Yana merely looked amused, backing out of Sakura's reach.  "Tsk, tsk.  Anger does not suit you, you know?  Why don't you just cooperate with me; it's much easier and less painful."  He laid emphasis on the last word, a sudden twinkle in the corner of his eye.  Sakura's rage contorted face met his in unnatural defiance, arms still reaching themselves in his direction.  He sighed, holding up a cloth to his mouth.  "I suppose it'll be the hard way.  Guards."

Two masked men appeared at Yana's side, flicking a few beads into the cell, a sweet aroma swirling around Sakura's senses.  She fought off the mind numbing effects of the gas, but eventually succumbed to its strength, collapsing into a heap on the icy floor.

____________________________________

"Syaoran?"  Sakura twirled listlessly in the white fog, her coat fluttering in response to her actions.  "Syaoran?"  The mist seemed to darken, a gray low-lying ocean of steam remaining at her ankles.  Snow fell in heavy flakes, a flickering fluorescent light casting a strangle glow around her, buildings blanketed.  A form blurred his entrance, sharp colours coming into resolution, brown hair, flashing eyes, familiar jaw line.

"Sakura?"  Syaoran's voice called out uncertainly, his arms grasping, feeling into the emptiness.  Sakura rushed to his side, to once again be in his arms, to be pleasantly overwhelmed by his scent, pressed up against his warm body.  

"Syaoran!"  Sakura's mind whirled in confusion, flashes of blood, tarnished steel, Yana's malicious eyes running through her consciousness.  Was it all just a daydream; she surveyed her surroundings, the same familiar street, the same night as the mission.  She clung to her hope; it must have been a daydream, a vision, something unreal.  "I had the worst daydream, about this mission.  It was horrible; you died and…" She trailed off into a fit of emotional sobbing, throwing out unfinished exclamations.  "I don't…I don't…we can't…not tonight."

Syaoran hugged her tight to his body, extracting a snow flake from her hair.  "Of course we don't.  We don't have to go through with this mission.  We'll find Tomoyo and tell her we can't do it."

Sakura wiped her tears, nodding emphatically, anything to prevent her vision from coming true.  "You think she'll let us quit on this mission?"

"Of course; just tell me how to find her."  Syaoran peered steadily into Sakura's eyes pleading against her resolve.

Sakura furrowed her brows in bewilderment, forming her words carefully.  A twinge of danger formed at her spine, chilling through her soul.  "But you know how to contact Tomoyo."

Syaoran chuckled, face twisted into a sheepish grin.  "I must have forgotten.  Remind me again, and we can go home."

"I…I."  The overwhelming feeling again sent shivers through her nerves.  She looked deeper into the sheepish grin, cautiously backing away from her husband.  Behind the easy laugh, the expressive eyes, there was a faint show of teeth, sharp and treacherous, his face suddenly taking the form of not joy but derision, threatening and mocking her.  The memories cascaded down through her mind, the sword, the hilt, the blood, Syaoran's corpse.  She pointed an accusing finger, horrified what was around her.  "You're not Syaoran; you're not!"

Syaoran shrugged, face shifting to sienna eyes, a spiteful sneer on his face.  "Ah aren't you the smart little one?"

The buildings rumbled and shattered into dust, the whole area around Sakura bursting into millions of dots of lights.  She snapped her eyes open, wires crisscrossing her face, a rapidly beeping machine to her right, bright floodlights blinding her.  "Yana!"  Sakura tried desperately to sit up, her back arching in effort as her limbs remained down to a table.  

"You should have just told me, Sakura."  Yana appeared off to her right, gently scolding her as he removed an electrode from his forehead.  He shook his head disapprovingly looking mildly reproachful.  "It would've been so much easier." He ignored Sakura's fury as she spat venomous curses at him, picking up a small vial and a hypodermic needle.  "This is your last chance; tell me how to find Daidouji.  There's no turning back after you're infected."

Infected?  Sakura's mind reeled on itself; she was going to die.  Part of her laughed ironically; of course she was going to die.  But Yana was giving her exactly what she wanted.  What was life without Syaoran, her alone in this hellhole?  Another voice within her fought against acceptance; what about her promise?  Would she break her last promise to Syaoran?  But would she tell Yana?  Live for another moment in exchange for the death of all the other Resistance members?  No; she wouldn't.  Mentally she threw herself on her knees praying to Syaoran for forgiveness; she wouldn't be able to fulfill her promise.  She wouldn't be able to stop Yana.  Sakura twitched her mouth into a macabre smile.  "Burn in hell."  The sharp pain of a prick sealed her fate, the corrosive liquid burning through her veins.  Her body contorted as much as the restraints allowed her to, the immediate sensation of throbbing dissipating to a subdued ache somewhere deep inside.  She opened her watery eyes warily; why wasn't she dead?

Yana met Sakura's puzzled gaze with a smirk.  "You thought I'd kill you so easily?  No, this poison works slowly; it'd be a shame to let such a beautiful young lady die so suddenly."  He lifted a long thin vial, snapping the cap off.  "No my dear; we're going to keep you alive to keep me company.  And when I tire of you; well you know…"  He forced Sakura's mouth open, her body being too exhausted to fight against him.  Forcing the vial's contents into her mouth, he snapped his fingers, two guards untying Sakura's limbs and carrying her of the lab.

Sakura felt the chemical sliding down her throat, the aching suddenly disappearing.   She turned her head to catch Yana replacing the empty vial in a rack, a sickening smile playing across his features as he waved goodbye.  Sensations of grips encircling her arms and legs flashed through her muddled consciousness, occasionally distracted by a sharp scream or pained groan around her.   The last sound she remembered before succumbing to her protective slumber was Yana's raucous laugh.

__________________________________

An icy draft blew across Sakura's skin, causing her to shiver in hurt, the mere quivering movement of her body sending jabs of pain across her insides.  She wanted to die, to leave the vial of medicine placed at the front of her cell alone, to meet Syaoran again.  But she had promised and she was still alive.  She rose quickly, ignoring the ache of her joints, swallowing the unctuous liquid, shuddering at its noxious taste rolled down her throat.  How was she supposed to fulfill her promise, to escape and stop Yana?  Some thought nagged at the back of her mind, something seemingly inconsequential but could mean freedom for her.  Who said it?  It was last night.  Syaoran?  No; the pain burned deep in her chest as she remained fixated on his memory for an instant.  Tomoyo?  That didn't seem right.  Red; very red…  Nakuru?  Yes, something she mentioned…she escaped?  How?  'I escaped through an air vent a couple years back.'  Air vent?  Sakura whipped around in the dimness, finding the stone wall in the orange light of a dying lantern.  A light breeze rose to meet her squinted gaze, resounding echoes as she banged against the rocks.  Air vent.  Sakura's deep breaths saturated still air as she desperately threw her light weight against the stone wall, the mortar starting to crack under the constant stress.  Her shoulder was bruised, blood running down one arm.  With a crash, a section of wall broke apart and fell at her feet, a dark cavernous void greeting her efforts.

Without a second thought, Sakura entered the darkness, her fingertips feeling for the walls, gusts of air blowing past her.  The soft whir of a fan attracted her attention as she moved closer to the sound.  Next to the fan was the darkened vent to the lab, the empty chamber filling Sakura with torrents of anguish.  She suppressed the lump in her throat as she lowered herself into the room, quickly scanning the countertops.  The same box stood where it had last night, one empty vial amidst hundreds of filled ones.  She struggled to lift the heavy load, supporting her precious cargo with two sore arms.

_______________________________________

The silence overwhelmed Sakura's limping figure, all the windows darkened, the compound without sound, like a graveyard in the murky hours of the morning.  Stumbling over the brittle snow, she trudged toward the perimeter fence, straining her ears to listen for sounds of voices, footsteps, anything remotely dangerous.  Her lungs burned in the cold, skin numbed, exposed to the unforgiving winds.  The wound in the fence lay directly in front of her wrecked body, the sewer entrance beckoning her forward.  

Forcing her left arm to support the medicine, she lowered herself down of the ladder leading into rank depths.  With finality, the manhole cover slid into place with a resounding clank.  Mind reeling with thoughts of freedom, of loss, of pain, her body heaved with surging emotions.  Sakura laid the crate down at her feet, the weight splashing the tranquil turbid waters.  She leaned heavily against the walls of the sewer, letting out a scream inhuman in its unimaginable despair.  As the morning sun rose above ground, tears dripped endlessly into the brackish waters.  A huddled Sakura, crouching into a ball under the ladder, sobbed her heart out.

_________________________________________

Author's Note:  I came up with something I wanted to do next chapter:  flashbacks to everyone's past (Nakuru, Yamakazi, Tomoyo, Syaoran, Sakura…)  What do you think?  I know I'm not getting into the present too much right now, but I think it'll help people understand the characters better. I hope I don't have to separate them if it gets too long…=(  No promises!


	6. Shrouded Memories

Author's Notes:  This chapter is all flashbacks to the past of the characters in Sakura's world, including her and Syaoran; I couldn't help adding a sappy S+S moment here…heh heh. And the headings like **twenty years before** means twenty years before the present, okay?  There's death and general drama in this chapter…  Read and review, please?

Thanks to **Skiff** (I always think my sentences are too long and confusing…but I can't help it), **Misstress Dark** (thanks for the mild threat of violence), **CreatiStar** (where are you now?  And yes, I'm going to bother you to finish your other fics…you just wait.), **mya** (yeah, that whole time element can get confusing), **Rhea-chan** (look rhea-chan, chocolate *leads rhea-chan away from carrot* Sakura can't die yet…), **Little Blossom** (I guess he is, but I can't help but like Yana a little bit…), **Caoilfhionn** (hmm…you do bring up a good point, maybe I'll incorporate that somehow…), **Riley S** (aww…if only I could give you some chocolate…I have a 500g block of Toblerone…mmm).

This chapter is especially dedicated to **Jurei**:  it's been a while, but I finally got this chapter done. Your encouragement always means a lot to me.  And I'm glad you updated 'foreign destiny;' I'm going to review just as soon as I finish editing this chapter…

Disclaimer:  If I die I want to be reincarnated as a poison arrow frog…oh, yeah and I don't own CCS.

Slipping Away 

Chapter 6:  Shrouded Memories

Twenty Years Before 

Tomoyo watched herself in the mirror, her new silk dress fluttering in the spring winds.  She was eight today, and with good reason, excited.  Her reflection stared back at her, smiling, but something was missing.  Vaguely, she touched her bare neck, taking an askance look to the rectangular velvet box on her desk.  She playfully pretended to walk towards the door, suddenly stopping and racing back to the desk as if to surprise some imaginary watcher.  Giggling, she parted the two sides, a shaft of light reflecting over the nacre surfaces inside.  With a click, the box locked open, a small string of pearls glistening in the morning sunshine.  Tomoyo cast her mind back to this morning with delight, her heart fluttering with joy.

_______________________________________

Daidouji Sonomi was not one to be late; she was always intensely punctual, arriving at work exactly at ten and leaving on the second at six.  Today, however, she smiled almost nostalgically as she stroked the soft velvet of a jewelry box.  She sipped her coffee appreciatively, watching the clock sweep past nine thirty without anxiety.  

The cook stirred the oatmeal a little quicker, thinking about the preparations to be made later, cakes, cookies, candies, streamers...  He shook his head dismissively, a thin smile appearing on his lips. Miss Tomoyo was eight today; where had all the years gone?

The soft tread of footsteps on the stairs floated over the rising aromas from the kitchen.  Sonomi blinked, a loving maternal smile on her lips.  Tomoyo's small figure flew into the dining room, throwing herself easily into the nearest chair.  "If it isn't the birthday girl."

Tomoyo's soft eyes flew upward, fixing on her mother.  "Okaa-san, aren't you late for work?"

Sonomi shook her head slowly, beckoning Tomoyo to her side.  She presented the box to the puzzled girl, chuckling at her fear to touch it.  "Take it Tomoyo; it's a present for you."

Tomoyo's eyes danced, her fingers quickly opening the box, hesitating in shock as she surveyed the cream beads nestled on crumpled felt.  "Oh, it's beautiful."

"Yes, aren't they?  They've been the family for generations; they're given to the first daughter on her birthday.  I got them on my tenth birthday as my mother and grandmother.  But, I thought you're responsible enough to have them now."

Tomoyo stood reverently momentarily before throwing a hug around her mother's neck.  "Thank you.  I'll take really good care of them."

Sonomi patted her daughter's back, standing up and reaching for her briefcase.  "Of course you will; I have no doubts.  But, now, I really have to get to work; but we're going to have a big party for you when I get home.  I even put a new dress in your closet.  Bye, Tomoyo."

Tomoyo waved to her mother as the tall figure descended the steps to the garage.  Her mind swam with anticipation of dresses, jewelry, presents, parties.  She succumbed to the overwhelming emotions, allowing herself to jump and laugh before composing herself and walking more or less normally to her room.

___________________________________

Sonomi answered her ringing cell phone, pausing in the parking lot to extract it.  "Yes?"  Her face lost its shine as the other voice on the end of the receiver spoke harshly and voluminously.  "What?  He can't!  I'm a partner too; I'm not going to allow this."

As she argued, her body stationary on the pavement, a car's engine roared to life, halogen lights flashing blindingly.  Sonomi snapped her head sideways, squinting into the glare of the headlights, the colour draining from her face.  The squeal of tires accompanied the hurtling car as it sped towards her.  Her scream echoed shrilly in the empty parking lot, followed by a soft thud and the screeching of rubber against asphalt.

_____________________________________

Tomoyo lifted her eyes from the pearl necklace, watching curiously as her mother's photograph appeared on the television down the hall.  She placed the box back on the desk, skipping merrily to the living room.  A news reporter had supplanted her mother's picture, rattling off some news.  Tomoyo turned the volume higher, the reporter's voice resounding through the room.

"Today, Yana of Yanacorp has announced a full takeover of its rival companies.  This announcement has come in wake of the tragic news of his partner's sudden death.  We have received confirmation that Daidjouji Sonomi, Yanacorp's silent partner, has died after being struck by a car in the company parking lot this morning.  We now go to the steps of Yanacorp's headquarters where Yana Hiroshi is making a statement."

Tomoyo stared blindly at the television, her legs failing her as she crumbled into a mess of creased silk.  She started as Yana's voice and face filled the television.  He coughed peremptorily, face immobile and deadly, it's cruel youth on show.  "I have only just heard the horrible news about Sonomi; I can't believe she's gone.  She's been such an instrumental part in keeping Yanacorp at the top of industry.  She will be sorely missed as it is impossible to replace such a unique and shrewd woman.  In the light of her tragic death, I think we should make Yanacorp even better than it is now; her work for this company should not be in vain.  We owe it to her memory to do whatever is necessary to see her dream fulfilled."  Yana bowed his head in silence, the newscast returning to the reporter's narrative.

Tomoyo weakly scrambled to full height, stumbling back to her room, nothing registering in her mind.  She scanned her room without recognition, fixing a dumb gaze on the pearl necklace.  She absent-mindedly took it up from the box, feeling the cool weight sliding past her fingertips, smelling the lingering, soft fragrance of her mother's perfume. The news slowly imprinted itself in her mind.  Her mother was dead; she had no mother.  Flashes of memory cascaded back, her mother's pacing figure in the dim living room as she argued on the phone with Yana, her worried face as she poured over contracts, her anger as she ranted to the cook about Yana's unethical business transactions.  Yana's face filled Tomoyo's mind's eye.  She watched morbidly fascinated as her fingers had automatically wrapped tightly around the pearls, her knuckles white, the string snapping under the stress.  Pearls dropped in all directions, clacking loudly on the floor and desktop.  She turned, finding herself looking into the mirror, feeling a part of her slipping away.  Her reflection fumed back at her, angry tears staining its cheeks, fists clenched at its sides, a snarl pulling back lips to bare teeth.  As suddenly as she saw herself, she knew at once what she lost:  her innocence.

____________________________________

Three Years Before 

Yamakazi sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders and neck to dissipate the soreness that had settled at work.  He blinked owlishly in the dim corridor lights, fumbling for keys in his pockets.  After several unsuccessful attempts, pulling out coins and folded memos, his fingers curved around the key ring.  After a satisfying click, he twisted the rusted knob, slowly pushing open the door, squinting as the door gave an irritating creak.  If only he could get some oil…maybe on the black market?  The aroma of dinner brought him back to reality, a quiet sizzle mellowing the dreary atmosphere of the sparsely furnished apartment.  "Chiharu?"

Two pigtails swung into view from the kitchen before a beaming face called out to face him.  "You're home."

Takashi raised an eyebrow.  "Pigtails?  Aren't you a little old for pigtails?"

Chiharu's full figure materialized, arms crossed over her chest, spatula pointed upward.  "I felt like having pigtails today."  Her eyes narrowed just slightly.  "And what do you mean old?"

Takashi stammered, knowing he was treading around a dangerous pitfall. "Oh nothing, you're very young, very, very young."  After a quick moment of thought, he blurted explanations mindlessly, hoping to pacify her.  "In some societies, being older is an honor; the children have to worship the elders because…."  He gulped as his girlfriend's mouth thinned appreciably.  "Um, what I mean is…"  He groaned audibly, smacking himself square on the forehead.  "I should just stop huh?"

Chiharu rolled her eyes, speaking dryly.  "Yeah; that's probably a good idea."  She walked back into the kitchen, silence engulfing the small apartment.

Yamakazi sighed wearily, throwing off his coat and dropping his briefcase to the ground, the damaged hinges giving way and scattering white and yellow forms across the ground.  He looked angrily upward as if cursing some higher being before dropping to his knees and trying futilely to put the papers back in order.  As he reached for a cream-coloured sheet, a second hand stopped him.  He looked puzzled up at Chiharu's teasing smile.

"Dinner's ready; you can clean this up later."  She chuckled at his confused expression.   "Don't worry; you're forgiven; I only wanted to see you make a fool out of yourself."

Takashi made a noise of exasperation before joining Chiharu in a good laugh.  "Alright, this can wait until later."

_______________________________________

"Fish?  Who'd you have to kill to get fish?"  Takashi gratefully placed the tender filet into his mouth savouring the long forgotten taste of fresh fish, grimacing at the past twenty years of tasteless food the government rationed out.

Chiharu smiled mysteriously.  "Some guy at work owed me a big favour, and he somehow miraculously caught this fish in the river last night, so he gave it to me in exchange for canceling his debt."

Yamakazi smiled gratefully if not a little perplexed.  "A favour?  What'd you do?  Take a memo for him?"

Chiharu frowned.  "You know, that's not all I do at my job."

"Aren't you just a secretary?"

"Big insult coming from a lowly accountant."  Chiharu's eyes flared threateningly as if daring Yamakazi to make another witty rejoinder.

"Point taken.  What did you do for him?"

Chiharu paused pointedly, the air pregnant with something important.  "Well…see…"  She twisted her hands nervously.  "I'm not…I haven't been completely honest with you."

Takashi swallowed, looking anxious, half fearing another man.  "What do you mean?"

"I…"  A loud rap broke her confession.  "I'll get it."  She hurried to the door, abstractedly undoing the lock.  "Who is it?"

The door swung open ferociously, an arm clasping around Chiharu's wrist.  "Are you Mihara Chiharu?"  She stood still, shocked and trembling with fear.

Takashi leapt to his feet, instantly by his girlfriend's side.  He glared at the corpsmen in the doorway.  "What are you doing?!"

The corpsman holding Chiharu dictated from memory.  "Mihara Chiharu is charged with working with the resistance and is therefore to be immediately incarcerated."

"What?!  You have to be kidding; she'd never do something like that."  Yamakazi reached for Chiharu but found himself restrained by two guards.  "Let me go; I'm telling you she's innocent!"

The soldier drew Chiharu's attention with a sharp twist of her arm.  "We have ways of finding out the truth, quite painful ways."  Her eyes widened as the man gave a discreet glance towards Yamakazi's thrashing figure.

"I'll admit it; if-if you don't harm Takashi."

Yamakazi stopped fighting, mind reeling with shock.  "Don't do it Chiharu!  You're innocent; I know it."

The head corpsman drew notice to his gun; Chiharu clung fiercely to his arm.  "I'll say it!  I worked with the Resistance. Leave Takashi out of this, I'll go with you!"  The soldier gave a curt nod, dragging Chiharu out of the apartment.  The two other guards released their hold on a stunned Yamakazi.  Takashi broke out of his shock instantly, jumping forward to reach for Chiharu's back.  "Chiharu!"

A guard turned quickly, the butt of his gun crashing down on Yamakazi's head.  Takashi vaguely heard his name being screamed as his body sank onto the floor, a thin trickle of blood from above his right eye staining the white and yellow papers underneath him crimson.

_____________________________________

Five Years Before 

Syaoran peered anxiously into the dark alley, self-consciously running a hand over his suit, as if he could change its threadbare condition back to pristine new.  He fidgeted noticeably, taking discreet looks behind him every other second.  A flickering light shone overhead as he reached the end of the alley.  He coughed softly yet loud enough to echo; an elderly man stepped out of the shadows looking intently at Syaoran's form.  "Mr. Nezumi…is Sakura here yet?"

The older man shook his head, placing a reassuring hand on Syaoran's shoulder.  "I'm sure she's on her way."

Syaoran nodded dumbly, eyes reverting back to his suit.  "I wish I could've had a nice suit…"  He patted the fabric, a cloud of dust clouding the air; he coughed, grinning sheepishly.  "I guess that's why the suit's gray…"

The elderly man chuckled lightly, throwing his memories back to far too many years ago.  "I'm sure it's all fine; Sakura won't mind."

Syaoran contemplated silently, knowing the man was right.  "Yeah, but still…"

Nezumi looked thoughtfully at Syaoran.  "You know it's nice to know the old traditions are still around."

"We both agreed that there was no other alternative."

"You couldn't apply for a government license?"

A low yet light voice echoed from just outside the streetlight's illumination.  "It wouldn't be a real marriage; we'd be just another set of numbers to be kept track of…"  Sakura stepped into the light, removing her hood and casting off her cloak to look mournfully at her pale green silk dress, worn patches dotting the fabric.  "At least we match."  She laughed amused as she considered herself and Syaoran, standing side by side in patched clothes long past their prime.

Syaoran smiled lovingly at her, taking her hand in his.  "It doesn't matter so much anymore."

Sakura nodded softly, hair sweeping around her cheek.  "Are you ready Mr. Nezumi?"

He smiled, cracking open a worn little book.  His quiet recitation of the ceremony murmured thoughtfully in the stillness of the night, the somber words fighting against the dread that threatened to envelop the night.  He stopped near the end, looking somewhat uncomfortable, knowing the impossibility of his question.  "Do you have rings?"

Both bride and groom grinned in thought, remembering.

_______________________________________

Sakura laid back on the rickety couch, looking fancifully at the ceiling.  "Just a week more and we'll be married..."

Syaoran looked across at her figure, the heat rushing to his face as he wondered what it would feel like to have her under his fingertips.  "Yeah…"

Suddenly, Sakura's head twisted to face Syaoran, a frown marring her features, voice sullen.  "I don't have a ring for you…"

Syaoran nodded in sympathy, knowing there would be no way to ever get enough money to actually buy a ring.  "Me neither…"

Brightening, Sakura reached over the coffee table, plucking a chocolate from a little cup.  "Don't you think this candy is pretty?"

"Hmm?"  Syaoran looked baffled as Sakura admired the wrapped candy.  "I guess…it should be; it cost quite a bit."

Sakura nodded distractedly twisting off the golden foil and placing the chocolate in her mouth.  Twirling the wrapper around her index finger, she looked pointedly at Syaoran.  "Isn't it pretty?"

He finally caught on as he moved to her side, taking her slim hand and moving the foil to her ring finger, the reflective covering glowing against her skin.  "Very pretty…"

________________________________

Mr. Nezumi looked from Syaoran to Sakura, both apparently lost in thought.  "Ahem?"  Both started, flushed and embarrassed, apologizing rapidly.  "You don't have to apologize; it's just that you both suddenly went off to somewhere else.  Do you have rings?"

Both nodded, extracting a molded foil circlet.  Sakura looked a little self-conscious as she tied the round strip around Syaoran's finger, twisting the two ends together.  Syaoran repeated the same action, eyes shining in something akin to playfulness.  

Mr. Nezumi smiled amusedly, that old feeling of nostalgia rushing up to overtake him again.  "Very ingenious.  I now pronounce you many and wife; you may kiss the bride."  He extracted a bulky device from his coat, pointing it discreetly at the couple.

Syaoran brushed his thumb's pad across Sakura's jaw line, her face tilting to meet his in the mute yellow light.  A soft click and a flash of light broke their kiss as they both looked questioningly at the minister's wry face.  

The elderly man held out a photograph.  "See?  You didn't need better clothes."

Syaoran looked appreciatively at the developing picture, both his and Sakura's bodies leaning against each other, the worn and patched clothes blurred and soft as the whole scene unfolded, two lovers kissing under the pale glow of golden light.  "I guess not."

___________________________________

One Year, Six Months Before 

The gun recoiled with a barely noticeable force.  Nakuru watched intently, the energy blast missing her target by a hairsbreadth.  "Shit!"  The people in her vision were fleeing and ducking; there'd be no way to get a second shot now.  Yana won't be happy.

___________________________________

Azukizi Nakuru was deadly, known to be one of Yana's top assassins.  She took no pains to disguise herself, in fact drawing attention with her tight fitting clothes, bared skin and scarlet lips.  As such, it was immensely disturbing that she still found her way into her target's lives, easily picking off resistance leaders and dangerous allies.  She half smiled as she thought of the violence that was her life, but swinging open the gate to her house, she reflected.  She was lucky.  Along the street, her small comfortable home stood in contrast to the slum apartment complexes flanking both sides.  Well-oiled hinges gave way to a garden, artificially grown and maintained but still scenting the air with floral fragrance and displaying its vivid colours.  It was a nice alternative to the upcoming gray, stale summer.  

She punched in the security code, letting the front door swing open easily.  Slipping off her shoes, she let the soft carpet curl around her toes.  Her home was the profit of death, lavish gifts in exchange for human lives.  She smiled ruefully, knowing it was either this or to suffer as those around her have done.  Even her parents understood, resigning themselves to live knowing that their daughter was a paid mercenary. "Okaa-san?"

A black haired woman appeared off the right, a vase of bright tulips, the air of domesticity emanating from her figure.  "Nakuru? You're home early; don't you have to see Yana?"  She lowered her voice as she pronounced 'Yana,' a subdued anger burning in the depths of her steel gray eyes.

Nakuru shook head no; she usually went straight to Yana to get her reward.  This time, she thought letting a night pass before she'd have to explain her failure would be better.  "Not tonight; I failed."

Her mother nodded, not knowing whether to sigh in relief or worry for Nakuru's safety.  "I…I don't know what to say…"

"You should say 'I'm glad.'  Strangely, I'm happy I missed."  Nakuru grimaced.  "Unfortunately, Yana's not going to see it that way…."  She heaved off her coat, smiling as that motherly disapproval reappeared. 

Her mother placed the vase of flowers down on the sideboard, heaving a sigh.  "Do you have to wear such revealing clothes?  In my day…"

Nakuru laughed, shrugging off her mother's words, echoed every other day.  "Let's not get into this again…I'm starving, what's for dinner?

The ebony haired woman drew up short.  "Dinner's in the kitchen; it's stew tonight.  You should be hungry; you look like a stick."

"Call it a job requirement."  Nakuru replayed the various times where she'd had to crouch uncomfortably in narrow crevices, twisting and bending her body to dodge enemy fire, having to seduce disgusting men.  "Better yet, let me have a shower first."

The hot water rained down from the nozzle, sending the dust and dirt away.  Nakuru murmured reminiscently nursery rhymes, the times of childhood, before this apocalyptic era had begun.  "Jack be nimble; Jack be quick…"

_________________________________

The teacher looked at Nakuru, the small girl raising her hand urgently.  "Yes?"

Nakuru frowned in childish miscomprehension.  "Why can't Jill be quick and jump over the candlestick?" The class giggled, Nakuru frowning.

"I'm sure Jill can, but the nursery rhyme has Jack jumping over the candlestick…"  The teacher grinned at her own inner thought, talking to her faculty members during break about her little 'kindergarten feminist.'

___________________________________

Nakuru leaned her head against the shower door, remembering the day in fifth grade when she finally figured out what a feminist meant…  She turned the water off, wrapping a towel around her body.  That was all behind her, only the present to think about.  She stepped into the kitchen with new vigor, sitting at the table, looking hungrily at a steaming bowl of stew in front of her.  She picked up a spoon, relishing the hot liquid warming her from inside out.  It was times like this that she felt like she could relive her interrupted childhood.  She paused to take a long draught of iced tea.  

"I heard you failed."

Nakuru looked up, meeting her father's gaze across the table, over his newspaper, the headlines screaming of Yana's wonderful new institutions and policies.  "Hmm…yes."

Her father removed his glasses, folding his newspaper into a neat rectangle as he'd done for the past twenty years.  "Good for you."

Spilling her spoonful of soup onto the table, Nakuru looked up inquisitively.  "Why?  Yana's going to be angry."

"That spoiled brat can live with a little disappointment; I'm glad you didn't kill anyone tonight.  All that we have is based on death; I wouldn't mind living in poverty if I could know that innocent people didn't have to die."

His wife looked up from stirring a pot on the stove, fear in her eyes.  "Don't say that!  Nakuru's too involved; do you really think Yana'd let her leave?  He'd kill her first."

Nakuru sighed knowingly.  "It doesn't really matter, does it Okaa-san?  I mean when I'm too old to keep doing this, when I've outlived my usefulness, he'll kill me anyway, won't he?"  She stood up resolutely, leaving her parents to look worriedly at her retreating back.  "Thanks for dinner; it was delicious."

____________________________________

Nakuru walked into the vast office, not even remotely fearful of the consequences of her actions.  She'd given up on fear, and love, and anything remotely associated with happiness long ago.  "I failed."

Yana fixed one sienna eye on her figure momentarily, his attention reverting back to watching the model airplane in his hand fly aimlessly in the air.  Laying the toy down, he frowned contemplatively.  "I figured as much; you didn't come to pick up your reward yesterday."

"I'm ready to take my punishment."

Hiroshi screwed up his eyes, hands banging out a rhythm on the oaken desk.  A light flashed in his eyes, the burden of age shed as he looked like an earnest teenager again.  "Tell you what.  I'm in a good mood; I'll give you another chance at Daidouji.  Follow the general; he'll brief you on her whereabouts."  He rushed up to her, waving his hands in front of her, producing a small white flower from his sleeve.  "Look, magic."  He handed Nakuru the flower, smiling brightly.  "Have a nice day."

Nakuru raised a single eyebrow, rigidly accepting the flower and turning on her heels.  Something was wrong; Yana couldn't be so indifferent to her failure.  She merely shrugged off her unfounded suspicion, following the military man into the briefing room.

__________________________________

Nakuru frowned; she had pointlessly sat through hours and hours of receiving information that she'd already been briefed on before.  She partly wondered if she was being distracted for some reason.  The hinge opened quietly, the flowers swaying in the wind.  An uneasiness rose in her stomach as she neared the door, the wooden slab laying ajar.  Stepping through the threshold, she stopped, affronted by the sickening smell of blood.  Instinctively, her eyes averted to the sideboard, a tulip petal dangling perilously from the stalk.  As if weighted down by Nakuru's gaze, the petal fell away from the stem drifting lightly to land softly onto an opened palm.  Nakuru's eyes went from the tulip to the hand, staring long at the two prostrate figures sunk into the carpet.  She knelt by both figures, making a cursory inspection.  They were dead.  She would've cried if she could; a low pain ached in her, only this, nothing else.  She growled low in her throat, evoking the only emotion she'd been able to preserve all these years:  anger.  "Yana."  Her fingers tracing the outline of her gun along her thigh, she caught her coat off the hook.  Pausing reluctantly in the doorway, she returned to her parents' sides, kissing their foreheads in farewell, burning their faces into her memory. 

Azukizi Nakuru emerged from her home, face expressionless, mouth red, not with lipstick, this time stained with her parents' blood.  She whispered quietly to herself, only the flowers to pay witness to her vow.  "I _will_ kill you Yana."

________________________________

One Year Before 

Sakura looked hard at the gun that lay on the table before her; it was an easy choice one moment and then an excruciatingly hard one the next.  Would the burning energy discharge feel just like the gut wrenching pain she woke up every morning?  It had been a horrible month, the countless hours of crying and feeling as if her heart throbbing in her chest.  She had finally buried all the grief underneath her conviction and fury.  She promised him; she'd try until she breathed her last breath.  Yana would die at her hand.  Her eye caught the edge of a frame, the glass smashed and cracked.  Roughly shaking the broken glass to the ground, she unearthed an old photograph, the picture threatening to push her over the edge, to take up the gun and pull the trigger.  She laid the photo down again, smiling ruefully at her wedding kiss.  So long ago…in fact, a lifetime ago…his lifetime…

A knock sounded against her door jolting Sakura from her inner thoughts.  Almost perfunctorily, she stuck a card to her skin, the blue circle flaring to life.  "Come in."

The door hesitantly creaked open, a familiar face stepping out from behind its protection.  "Sakura?"  Takashi looked uneasy, staring point blank at Sakura, gun pointed at his face.

Sakura pursed her lips, deactivating the Shield card, laying the gun back on the table.  "Yamakazi."

Takashi turned around, ushering in a second figure, whirling to warn Sakura.   "She's not anyone dangerous."

Chiharu's figure peered out from behind Yamakazi, her face regaining its old strength, the only remnant of her incarceration, her eyes sunken and rimmed with dark lines.  "Hello."

Sakura eyed the woman warily noting her attachment to Yamakazi, eventually nodding for them to come in.  "Shut the door after you."

Takashi stood uncertainly in the middle of the living room, watching Sakura's outline against the window.  "I'm sorry for your loss."

"So am I."  Sakura's words were harsh, cutting.  She turned blank eyes to the couple.  "What do you want?"

"We…we're going up against Yana."  He sucked in his breath at the fury spreading across Sakura's face.  "He's just finished making another tunneling machine; he's going to invade another world."

Sakura clenched her fist, looking venomously at her gun.  "So?"

"Daidouji asked us to see if…if you'd help."

Chiharu noted Sakura's red-rimmed eyes, the deep sallow quality of her face. She quickly added,  "But if you don't want to, it's fine."

"No, I'll do it."  Sakura smiled, frighteningly cruelly.  "We can't let Yana do this another world."

Takashi warned, "It's dangerous."

"What's dangerous?  Why would I care?"  She looked him deep into his eyes, nothing in her green orbs readable as alive.  "Do you think I fear death?"

"N-no.  I'll tell Daidouji."  He turned to go, but arrested at Sakura's quick shout.  "What's wrong?"

A glimmer of something other than iciness swallowed up Sakura's eyes for an instant.  "You love her, don't you?" She pointed to Chiharu, who had shrunk back behind Yamakazi's form.

"Y-yes.  Of course I do."

"Then quit.  Leave."  Sakura stopped considering, letting her eye fall back on the framed photograph.  "Or else end up like me…"

Takashi paused considering, seeing the anguish buried deep in Sakura.  "But Yana…"

Sakura lashed out.  "Leave Yana to me!  Live your lives.  I'll help Tomoyo with every last ounce of my energy, only if you take her and leave."

Yamakazi looked uncertainly at Sakura's inflamed figure, feeling a slight tugging behind him.  He turned a concerned eye to Chiharu.  "What?"

Her quiet voice breathed out in gasps.  "She's right; can't you see how much suffering she's going through?  Don't we deserve some kind of happiness?"  He eyes sought his in earnest pleading.  "Can't we be selfish this once?"

"Okay."  He turned to face Sakura.  "We'll leave; we'll live our lives."

Sakura's contorted face fell back into indifference, the hardness returning to her words.  "Good.  Go now; disappear.  I'll tell Tomoyo."

_______________________________________

The door closed shut with a soft scrape.  Sakura returned to her post by the window watching the two figures, hands clasped together, disappearing into the maze of alleys and streets.  She picked up a box, taking out a preserved gold foil loop.  Crushing it in her fist, she whispered to the empty apartment.  "That was us once…"  She let the broken ring drop, heart shattering with finality as the twisted circlet hit the ground.  Raising her eyes to the gray sky, she whispered, "Soon."

______________________________________

Author's Notes:  Wow, done in one day.  Hope it was okay; it's amazing how spring break can get my inspiration to write back up again…  Next chapter:  back to the present!  


	7. Foreign Familiarity

Author's Notes:  Finally back to the present.  Yay!  And since I've put so, so much drama and depressing-ness into the first few chapters, I thought I could vary it and put a nice little interchapter here, with some happy moments, some sad ones, and some mushy ones.  It's a pathetic little way of making up for character deaths later on…hehe, gave away a secret.  Oh well, it's not as if you didn't expect something like that huh?  But I'm not going to tell you who dies… *zips mouth*

Arigato gozaimasu to **kY** (not as late this chapter, hehe), **Mistress Clow Pixie** (don't you dare touch my stash =P), **Rhea-chan**, **CreatiStar** (you!  You are updating soon!), **Little Blossom**, **Silver-Cherry**, **Caoilfionn** (Tolstoy?  Flattery's not good for my ego.  By the way, where's 'into the gray?', **mya** (I hope to get the other characters into the present soon).

This chapter will be dedicated to **Wings of Fire**.  I love death threats, absolutely lovely.  Sorry about the long wait, crap school and such.  Thanks big time for the time to craft a death threat. =)

Slipping Away 

Chapter 7:  Foreign Familiarity

Sakura's lids parted to the early morning, an array of orange and yellow signaling dawn.  She yawned, stretching her aching joints, tingling sensation in her lungs.  Blinking, she sat up, looking around her in confusion, hands embedded in a soft pillow, the scattering of sheets and blankets twisting around her body.  With a yawning breath, she gingerly threw a leg off the bed, wincing at the unnatural coldness of the wooden floor.  Pressing her soles flat to the floor she tested her limbs, the aching cold dissipating as she accustomed herself. 

A quick cursory glance around the room told her it was Syaoran's, neat-stacked books and papers sitting quietly on a plain desk, bare white walls occasionally broken by calligraphy and faint brush artwork.  But what attracted her more was the smell that seemed to permeate the room; the room smelled of being lived in, not cold and dead as her apartment had been after Syaoran's death.  This room vibrated with some underlying energy and she felt it skim along her skin, throwing warmth through her fingertips.  It was a remote feeling that stirred in her, something almost like being glad to be alive, replacing the constant wish of never being born at all.  

With her newfound realization, she sprang at the balcony curtains, drawing them back fully to reveal the wide expanse of blue skies and the fiery ball of the sun blazing along the horizon.  Almost hesitantly, she cracked open the glass partition, dreading to feel a familiar quick wind laced with dust and pollution.  Instead, a distinctly natural aroma filtered through, somehow comforting against her bare arms.  As if fearing to disturb the balance, she inched her way onto the terrace, scarcely breathing lest she disturb the view.  But nothing changed; the birds still sang courtship songs, the quiet rumble of cars came down the street, the wind was still a companion whispering in her ear consolation.  She breathed, fully, for what seemed like hours, inhaling the scents and life that emanated before her, her mind driving away the rank haze that always seemed to dwell inside her.  Just laying her head against the railing and looking at sunrise with a slanted view was more than she ever dreamed, refreshing those memories of being a child and taking for granted that the grass would always be green, that her father and brother would always be there, that she would live a happy life.  And one by one, she was proven wrong, the harsh realities meeting her as she stumbled blindly through the totalitarianism of her life, each movement forced on her in response to some uncontrollable outside power.  And slowly, without knowing it, she was dying, in more ways than one, half clinging desperately to what she could piece together of life, reveling in just being with Syaoran, but all the while fighting off the knowledge that she was losing herself, to missions, to fighting, to violence…  But now, it was coming closer to the end, an unnatural end, but an end nonetheless.  Almost morbidly she felt wonderful knowing she would die on a planet that was still alive, that her body would somehow nourish life itself instead of being some nameless corpse limed, rotting in a mass grave.  Her eyes shut for what should have only been a minute, but the serenity of acceptance fixed them together, sleep casually flirting with her and pulling her deeper into insensibility.  She fell to her knees, drifting off against the iron fence, lulled by the pleasantness of remembrance.

_______________________________________

Syaoran wasn't sure how long he'd been staring at the wall clock, an hour at least.  That was the last thing on his mind, Sakura taking up most of his mental faculties.  He wanted to help her, wanted to so badly that he didn't know why.  And yet, she was asking him for nearly the impossible; he didn't understand 'tunneling' or how he was supposed to help her at all.  He didn't want to disappoint her, didn't want to be a failure when she needed him.  And she was only a stranger, someone he'd known for a little over a day.  He ran a hand through his hair, noting another full sweep of the second hand.  With a few joints cracking, he lifted himself from the couch, stretching in the mid morning mildness.  The weekend beckoned him forward, eyes drifting past the bundle of schematics and notes crammed desperately into a briefcase, over the blinking answering machine sure to be brimming with office messages, family obligations or long distance carrier offers.  His gaze stopped at his door, burrowing through the wood to watch the woman that was asleep beyond.  Was there etiquette to follow?  He didn't know; he just followed his feet to the door and knocked softly but resolutely.  Not hearing an answer, he twisted the knob, a breeze of flowers and sunshine wafting past him as the door gave way.  The rumpled sheets moved slightly as they caught summer's breath inflating and pouting at having been abandoned.  Following the path to the origin, he watched Sakura's figure slumped along the railing.  He slid quietly to her side, gingerly pulling her away from the edge and trying unsuccessfully to gather her up in his arms and take her back to bed.  It was a natural instinct, one that said far more than words probably ever could; in fact, he hadn't the will to even try to understand what led him on.  His movement, as gentle as he tried to make them, caused Sakura to fidget, shedding the cover of slumber.  Embarrassed, Syaoran let his arms drop to his sides, kneeling uncomfortably next to her on the concrete ground.  

Sakura smiled, rubbing her eyes and seeing Syaoran's face in view.  Resolutely she cleared her head, not wishing to make the same mistake she made before.  "Morning…"

Syaoran averted his eyes to the bustle of Saturday morning in Tomoeda, suddenly self-conscious that he may be staring too much.  "Oh, yeah, morning…"

Sakura pulled herself up, blinking at the deep imprints of the railings along her palms, and trailing the bars' path down the right side of her face.  "I must look like hell…"  She laughed a little awkwardly, trying out the long forgotten gesture.  "Must be rusty…"

"Rusty?"

"Haven't laughed, really laughed in a while; oh well…"  She massaged her shoulder as she went back into Syaoran's bedroom, casting an impatient look at him.  "Well?  What's there to eat around here?"

Syaoran had risen and brought himself to the bed, sitting comfortably on the familiar mattress.  "I haven't done any food shopping for some time so…how about we order lunch?  It's about noon…"

A glint of some plan formed in Sakura's eyes, the tangible possibility brightening her day immensely.  "Sounds okay, but how about we go out to eat?  You can show me your Tomoeda…"  A forlorn note invaded her tone for a moment, murmuring quietly to herself.  "It's been so long, so very long…"

"Sure, let's go.  But we've got to get dressed or something."  He looked down at his clothes, wrinkled with sleep, clinging awkwardly to one side.  "I'm going to take a shower…"  Syaoran walked midway thought the doorway when an arm pulled him back.

Sakura smiled wryly, feeling too good to the let the challenge go.  "What do you mean _you_?  I'm taking a shower first."

"And leave me the cold water I don't think so."

"Well, we'll do this fairly."  She stood up and pulled Syaoran into the living room, facing the hallway.  "We'll race; whoever gets there first, gets the first shower."

Syaoran looked incredulously at the girl beside him; he hadn't had a race since he was a child.  "A race?  Aren't we a little old for that?"

Sakura screwed up her eyes for a moment.  "No; we're not.  Are you afraid you'll lose to me?"

The challenge had its effect.  "On the count of three."

"One…"

"Two…"

"Three!"  Both lunged forward, bursting through the living room, banging down the hallway.  As Syaoran pulled ahead and near the doorway, Sakura slackened, coughing loudly.

Syaoran looked to his left, Sakura at having disappeared from his side.  He looked back to find her kneeling on the ground, coughing and gasping for air.  Worriedly, he ran back to her.  "Are you okay?"

Sakura nodded quickly.  "Just need my medicine…in coat pocket."

Syaoran turned to hurry back to his bedroom when the sounds of footsteps pounding away in the opposite direction caught his attention.  "Hey!"  The only reply was the blur of Sakura's figure darting into the bathroom, door slamming shut.  He almost broke something, he was so irritated.  "That's not fair!"

Sakura's voice came muffled but cheerful form the other side of the door.  "Can't a dying girl get a break?"

Syaoran didn't know what to say; her reply was meant in jest, but it was too true to laugh at.  He tried to say something but the sound of running water stopped him.  He sighed, retreating back to the living room.  He needed some time to get everything in his mind to quiet down.

______________________________________

Sakura let her head fall softly against the bathroom door, breathing deeply, trying desperately to control the pain that spread in her chest with every inhalation.  Her coughing fit wasn't a ploy; Yana's disease had gotten her mid-stride, seizing her body with pain, the feeling of suffocation welling up inside.  Only by sheer luck had she been able to retreat to the bathroom, collapsing against the tile floor as the door slammed behind her.  It was better that Syaoran thought it was a joke; there'd be no hurt or concern over her; she didn't want it; she didn't need it. She took a deep breath and managed to crawl to the tub, hoping she could stave off the coughing until she finished her shower.  Sitting under the jets, she closed her eyes and tried to stop the ache that was building inside.  The hot steam rose and filled the air; doing a little to clear her lungs.  She timed herself mechanically, approximating each second that would have to go by before she reached her limit.  It was getting shorter these days, especially in the last month; where once she could stave off medication for hours, it now dwindled to what seemed like mere minutes.  So in her mind, she counted off, robotically scrubbing at her skin with the soap, ignoring the water that nearly blinded her.  'Fifteen twenty, fifteen twenty-one…'  When the pain that wrenched in her would not longer be denied, she stopped counting, registering her dwindling endurance.  Twenty minutes and ten seconds.  As quickly as she could, she threw a towel around her, deciding her action.  Syaoran can't see her face; of all the emotions she had mastered, pain was not one of them.  And the only way for him to not see her was to be seen herself, in the most literal sense there could be.  

She loosened the towel decisively, taking a rasping breath and bolted from the door.  The action of swinging open the door caught the edge of her towel, weaving it higher on her thigh.  As expected Syaoran was on the other side of the door waiting, and again as she expected, he bloomed red and covered his eyes.  She smiled crookedly, one half of her face in amusement, the other paralyzed by the raging heat that boiled in her stomach.  "Sorry, Syaoran, I forgot my clothes and…"  She stopped talking as his bedroom door closed behind her.  Without hesitation she fumbled blindly in her coat pockets feeling the wrapped mess of vials and gadgets.  The unctuous fluid burned its own path inside her, advancing to meet her infection, its potency quieting the symptoms.  She rubbed her eyes quickly, dispelling the pained tears that had formed within the short minutes from the bathroom to the bedroom.  Fighting off the lethargy of the medication, she threw open the closet and drawers picking out whatever androgynous clothing would fit her.  A thin, T-shirt unearthed itself in her haste, buried in the deeper reaches of the closet.  She tentatively stretched the material filling it with her own form, slightly large but still accommodating her.  When she reappeared, collected, Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

"Not much into fashion huh?"

"What?"  Sakura looked down at herself, comfortable in her clothes, not patched or dirty or smelling like suffering.  "What'd you expect me to wear?"

"I guess you have a point."

Sakura smiled broadly, perhaps a little more than that would've been normal.  "Then let's go; I'm starved."

Syaoran couldn't help but give her an appraising look, confused and unnerved to a degree.  "Everything okay?"

"Couldn't be better."  Sakura hurried through the doorway into the hall, the sliding sounds of baggy jeans in her wake.

____________________________________

Syaoran chewed thoughtfully, trying to find some way to bring up the subject.  "Sakura?"

Sakura busied herself raking fingers through her knotted hair, alternately groaning and whimpering in frustration and pain as her fingers twined themselves helplessly in her strands.  "Ugh, I really should've brushed."  Finally yanking her hands free accompanied with an uncontrollable yelp of pain, a few severed strands coiling her digits.  "Ow."  She turned questioning eyes to Syaoran.  "Did you say something?"

He tried to suppress a laugh but failed miserably, choking in the effort.  "N-nothing."

Sakura pointed her chopstick threateningly, almost comically so.  "It's not funny; it hurt."  She leaned forward, poking his cheek with the wooden utensil.  "How'd you like me to laugh at you when you get hurt?  Wouldn't be so funny then, would it?"

Syaoran grimaced, turning his face away from the assault.  "Stop that."  His face closed even more as Sakura continued to poke him mercilessly.  "Hey stop it; okay, okay.  I'm sorry."

"You better be."  Sakura smirked triumphantly as she put down her weapon.  "Now that you're sincerely sorry, what were you saying before?"

"I…"  Syaoran looked abruptly around, not wishing to make eye contact.  "I mean; what about you know…Yana?"

Sakura's features darkened momentarily.  "I'm waiting for contact from the others, if they're alive anyway.  Probably in the next couple of days.  We wait."  Nostalgia flitted. "But in the meantime, we can have some _fun_."  She felt braver that she wanted to be, falling back into the remembrances of her other life.  She winked slyly.  "What do you say?"

Syaoran stammered, scarlet, blinking and starting unsuccessfully many times.  "I…well…if you, that is…"

A low ripple of laugher met his embarrassment.  "Kidding; just kidding.  Come on, we're done, there's still hours ahead of us."

"Y-yeah, sure."  A swipe of a credit card and both were strolling down the unvisited paths of the park.

___________________________________

"It's nice to smell flowers, don't you think so?"

Syaoran looked around him, red and orange and green painting the ground.  "I guess; don't really stop to smell the flowers much."

"Shame.  And it's all around you too."  Sakura bent down, snapping a dandelion from its colony, tucking it into her hair.  "At least these knots are serving some purpose."

"Uh-huh."  A comfortable silence passed, the scraping of feet moving against the gravel path.  The scenery changed gradually, the melting of trees to bushes to meadow.  A small pond grew up to meet them, water undisturbed but by the floating lilies.  Syaoran watched his feet play with a blade of grass as they sat on a bench overlooking the teeming waters.  "You know what?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't really know anything about you?"

"You mean all those little boring details?  Why'd you want to know them?"

"You made me go through my entire life's history last night; I think it's your turn."

Silence.  Sakura looked uneasily at a fish that came bobbing up to eat, diving back into the murky obscurity.  Could she trust herself to keep herself calm?  She looked askance at Syaoran's face and knew that she at least owed him something in return for his kindness.  "I guess it is; it's just not a very pretty picture you know, and it's long and complicated…"

"That's what makes stories interesting."  Syaoran attempted to smile reassuringly, somehow trying to lighten the mood.  

"Uh-huh; I'm not sure if I believe you…"  Sakura lifted her eyes to the sky, a gesture she'd been doing ever since she arrived, hoping that maybe she'll find a sign that Syaoran or her father or her brother would be somewhere up there and happy.  As it was, she searched without success.  "Fine, where do you want me to start?"

"Your family?"

"I knew you were going to say that."  Sakura grinned as the memories resurfaced.  "My mother died in childbirth so I never knew her.  My father said she was wonderful; I still wished I could've met her.  But I grew up happy with Otou-san and Oni-chan.  Otou-san was an archaeologist at the local university; he knew everything.  He used to get up early and make me breakfast; I still wake up sometimes and expect him sitting on my bed with a plate full of pancakes.  When everything changed, you know…"  Sakura made a gesture with her hand, hating to utter the name from her lips.  "Otou-san was against it, went around giving speeches and getting support for a rebellion, but he died.  Killed, assassinated, whatever you want to call it.  It wasn't long after when the big war came; Oni-chan joined the army.  I was so proud of him, even though I was only a little teenager.  My big brother was going to fight evil and win.  He never returned from the front…."

Syaoran was starting to regret asking for Sakura's life history.  A trail of tears ran its way down the ravine of her nose.  He almost shyly took her hand, giving a comforting squeeze.  "Hey, you don't have to continue if you don't want to…"

Sakura looked grateful but pulled her hand out of Syaoran's, shaking her head dismissively.  "No; it's about time I face all this.  I've been keeping it in too long; it's not _healthy_."  She nearly laughed at the irony of an emotional poison versus a physical one.  "It's not a happy ending story, but in a way it wasn't all bad.   I went to live with an aunt who gave me a nice home away from everything in the countryside; it was a good five years before she fell sick and passed away.  You know?"  Sakura looked genuinely happy.  "That was about the time when I met you."

"Me?"  Syaoran hit himself on the head; for a moment he thought she meant him.  "Your Syaoran right?"

"Yeah…"  Her smile grew even larger.  "After my aunt's death, I moved back to Tomoeda.  Syaoran was working in a bar at that time, waitering a little, doing odd jobs, cleaning tables.  Even then, work was beginning to get hard to find.  I wasn't in too good a mood, being alone and frightened of the new city, so I was understandably a little sensitive and short tempered."

_______________________________________

Sakura looked up from her glass of cheap red wine into the musty air of the bar, the general languid indifference that had settled after Yana's ascendance to power was especially powerful tonight.  "Waiter!"  She signaled to a young man as he passed by, but found him heading straight past her to another table.  She shook her head in annoyance, trying a second time, but finding the man ignoring her again.  It wasn't a good day that day, and the night wasn't much better.  Getting up from her seat, Sakura sought out the manager, making a large confession of her complaints.  The little manager nodded eagerly going straight off to find Syaoran, after clearing Sakura' bill.  She smirked almost superiorly as she sat back down to listen to the droning chatter of half a dozen tables and the faint strains of jazzy music wafting about.  After what seemed like an hour, she got up, draining her glass of its red fire and walked out into the clear night.  Mid stride she paused hearing someone shouting behind her.

"Miss!"  A male voice called out, again and again.  "Miss!"

Sakura looked around confused, watching as the waiter run up to her.  "Are you talking to me?"

The man gave her a cursory roll of the eyes.  "Do you see any other girls around here?"

Sakura narrowed her eyes; this is not how she'd like to end the night.  "I don't need your sarcasm; what do you want?"

Syaoran neither gave her a veiled nor an euphemistic answer speaking bluntly and acidly.  "You got me fired."

Sakura almost smirked again, but thought better as the man opposite her remained fuming.  "So?  You ignored me repeatedly; I complained to the manager.  It's not my fault the he decided to fire you."

Syaroan sneered.  "Then it's not your fault either that my family will be starving without my work money."

Sakura spat back, ready to engage in a 'whose life is worse' argument.  "At least you have family; they're alive and well, and mine are all dead.  You'll find another job and support them; I can't find another family can I?"  She turned on her back, walking briskly away, not seeing Syaoran's expression but certain it was some mixture of pity and guilt, like all the glances she got when she people found out about her past.  With some disgust, she entered her apartment building; apparently, this night wasn't one to cherish.

__________________________________________

Sakura watched in amusement at Syaoran's confused expression.  "You thought it was love at first sight?  Syaoran used to say so, but I knew he was lying.  I guess it wouldn't have been very romantic to say he hated me the first time we met."  She laughed then, a trifle more natural than morning.  "But fortunately, we got thrown together and we sort of grew into friends."

____________________________________________

The sign was tempting to her, as it was to everyone else.  Help Wanted.  Sakura entered the restaurant, looking at dismay at the half dozen faces that seemed to appraise right back at her.  Obviously, everyone wanted this job.  A woman with short red hair approached Sakura, handing her a clipboard and application.  "You are applying correct?"

"Un.  How many openings are there?"

"Three."  The woman nodded her word, turned swiftly around, a blur of henna and disappeared behind a wall.

Sakura bit the end of the pen, a habit she never quite got rid of; she felt especially bad when she realized she'd rendered the pen unusable after her and knew how much inflation had made ordinary things like pens ridiculously expensive.  She held out little hope of being able to compete against the other applicants as she had no prior work experience and was fairly certain her clumsiness would plummet her into debt as the tally of broken dishes and glasses added up.  

Surprised was not the word when she got a letter offering her the job; if the manager hadn't been from the countryside too, Sakura doubted her chances of even being really considered.  She almost danced in the shabby living room, but thought better lest the floorboards split and a gaping hole open up underneath her.

"Oh."  That reaction was not the customary hello of coworkers, but as the old cliché goes desperate times call for desperate measures.  Sakura found herself staring at the waiter from the bar, dressed in restaurant uniform.  "You're working here too?"

Syaoran merely nodded, placing a glass of water on his tray and heading out of the kitchen.  

Sakura groaned into her hands; it would not be easy working with someone who hated you.  "Crap."  With a fierce bang of her head against the swinging doors, she staggered out into the sea of tables.

"What a bitch."  Sakura threw off her apron, flinging the check pad onto a stainless steel countertop.  She looked maniacally at her pen, for a flash lapse in sanity moment wishing to jam it into her chest and get everything over with.  

"What's wrong with you?" 

Sakura turned her head to Syaoran, his apron discarded, holding a bowl of rice.  "Nothing, just a little argument with management.  All nice and smiley in the interview and then suddenly super bitch boss."

Syaoran finished his rice, looking a little at Sakura's fuming figure.  She was sort of funny; maybe she wasn't so bad after all.  "Yeah.  Good night."  He walked out of the kitchen leaving a gaping Sakura behind.

_______________________________________

"Okay, okay, it wasn't 'let's-be-best-friends' but it was a start.  But Syaoran was too shy for his own good, taking months to get up the nerve to ask me out."

_______________________________________

"I-I…"  Syaoran stammered horribly as he watched Sakura's curiosity.  

"Yes?"  Sakura for one was completely lost; he'd decided to walk her home today and was looking as if he'd die from embarrassment.  "Is there something…?"

"Un.  I…well, you know we've been friends right?"  Syaoran fidgeted, a hot red tiding over his face.  "And I wanted to know…if you'd go out with me?"

Sakura stood silent for a frightened moment; how'd this ever come up between them?  But then again, she'd liked his company the past few months, came to enjoy his presence.  Maybe it wasn't such an unwelcome idea…  "Um, yeah, sure."  She looked timid on the street, nervous at the intimacy that had just risen between them.  

"Great.  I mean…  How about…"  Syaoran was a little lost, mind racing past every possible time and place.

Sakura had her mind made up, the easiest and most cost effective course of action.  "Tell you what.  Do you have time now?  We could get some disgusting coffee."

Syaoran laughed a little, relieved at the sudden burden lifted.  "Sure."  

______________________________________________

"So that's the story?"

Sakura nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips.  "Yep, not much I know, but all the better for it.  After a while things got really deep and I feel in love and then we got married.   Then everything else and now I'm here."  She ended flatly, not deliberately, but it was an apposite ending to describe the past year:  flat.  

The sun dipped below the horizon, the afternoon disappearing into the awakening twilight.  "You want to go back?"

Sakura took a deep breath, the not wholly uncomfortable bleach smell of mowed grass.  "I think I'd like to stay out a little longer, see what the city is like at night.  How about some getting some disgusting coffee?"

Syaoran cringed a little in distaste.  "What?"

"Nothing; inside joke I guess."  

_________________________________________________

The soft skein of acoustic guitar sailed along the rippling aroma of coffee.  Sakura found herself picking out the minor strains in this music, comforting fingers chords looping and twisting around her.  "Hmm?"

Syaoran stopped talking, a little put off that Sakura had spaced out again.  "I asked if you wanted get out of here."

"Why; it's so peaceful and nice here."

"Because it's closing time.  Haven't you noticed half the lights turned off; the workers have been watching us for the past five minutes?"

Sakura looked intensely embarrassed, something new to her character.  A redness touched her ears as she laughed a little awkwardly immediately dragging Syaoran out of the store, coffees left steaming in the darkened interior.  She thumped Syaoran's chest as they emerged from the doorway.  "You should've told me it was closing time."

"I did.  You were off in your own little world."

Sakura pondered the statement for a second, taking a prolonged silence to watch the moon hang lugubriously in the night sky.  This wasn't a day for self-pity; she was determined to have fun, do something besides sulk and grieve.  Stricken, she twisted the idea around in her head, finally settling herself at Syaoran's side, tugging at his arm.  "You're it!"  Not waiting for a reaction, she drove forward down the street, night air sliding across her face, catching the dandelion and spraying a feathery trail behind her.

Syaoran stood motionless, processing all that happened within the past five seconds.  He allowed himself to blink once in confusion before a retaliatory smile surfaced.  Without further hesitation, he pursued her, pounding footsteps into the buzzing night.

_____________________________________________

Breathing hard, Sakura leaned against the apartment door, Syaoran's figure shadowing from the stairwell.  "Couldn't catch up to little old me?"

Syaoran smiled crookedly, the endorphins of the chase seizing his mind.  "Stop teasing."  He planted both arms against the door, trapping Sakura between him and the apartment.  "I've got you now."

Sakura held her breath; he was too close for comfort.  This shouldn't happen; as much as she wanted to have Syaoran again, he was gone.  "Syaoran…"

"Shh."  Syaoran leaned closer, perilously predatory yet gentle.  "Sakura…"

Lifting a hand to push him away, Sakura froze as familiar vibration skimmed along her thigh.  "Shit."  The expletive lost itself as the vibration developed into a strident beeping rhythm.  

Syaoran stepped away from Sakura, suddenly fully aware of his surroundings.  "What's that sound?"

Sakura withdrew the metal disk from her pocket, a faint glow pulsating.  She looked solemnly from Syaoran's face back down to the insistent device.  "The beginning."

_____________________________________________

Author's Note:  Heh heh; sorry about the cliffhanger, but it couldn't be helped.  Ooh, the big plotty part is coming up.  Enjoy the mush everyone?   Review please?


	8. Dwindling Time

Author's Note:  Yeah, yeah, late.  Summer vacation's here.  I'll really try to get these chapters up sooner.  I said this was going to be plotty but it's not really.  Plot in the next chapter.  This sets up what Syaoran and Sakura are doing.

Thanks to **unknown**, **anjali-chan** (I think it's mostly because they're still strangers), **Ongaku** (take your time), **Jurei** (eh?  The idea's from my head but it has its influence in Sliders with the dimension things but everything else is just a mix of all the sci-fi stuff I ever liked), **Little Blossom**, **Riley S** (aw, sorry about that.  You'll get your kiss, but not the way you expect it), **Rhea-chan** (blank white paper is unacceptable), **mya**, **kY** (I'm not killing them all, not unless I'm in a horrible mood), **Caoilfhionn** (sorry, really sorry about the lateness, but I don't see you updating…hmm?), **Mistress Clow Pixie** (ooh, my third death threat.  I feel so loved.  =P)

Disclaimer:  I will own CCS any minute now, just as soon as my army of robot ants force CLAMP to sign it over to me.  

**Slipping Away**

Chapter 8:  Dwindling Time

The blue mercurial portal flared, casting its iridescence over the living room.  Sakura, grim faced stood resolutely at the threshold.  She clenched tight the remote in her hand watching the rippling waves for signs of emergence.  Syaoran stood behind her, poised rigid against the forceless winds that gathered in the apartment.  Sakura grabbed a materializing hand. extracting a body from the rolling energy, the newly expelled mass stumbling onto the carpet.  A second person immediately followed, almost tripping over the first's heels.  "Close."  Flashing into non-existence, the portal resealed itself, leaving the room in its original darkness.  

Syaoran fumbled with the nearby light switch, letting the soft yellow glow sweep away the black.  On the floor sat two figures, panting, both women.  The first that emerged looked up to meet his eyes, a barely discernable smirk arching its way up her mouth.  "We meet again ne?"

"Uh…let me guess, the other me right?"

She nodded, lifting herself to her feet, shedding the thick overcoat from her shoulders and hurling it haphazardly onto the couch.  Bunching together loose strands of her hair, she tightened a ponytail, twisting her head to give the apartment a cursory glance.  "Nice place."  She shot out a hand, business-like, direct.  "Tomoyo."

Syaoran shook hands, looking over Tomoyo's shoulder to meet Sakura's impenetrable gaze.  "Syaoran.  You would be the leader right?"

"So I am."  Tomoyo thrust her other hand behind her, extracting a gun.  "I'm assuming Sakura's told you everything?"  Syaoran fidgeted; she threw an accusatory glare at Sakura.  "Then what did you tell him?"

Sakura's face broke its iciness, sinking into sheepishness.  "I told him about Yana and that we need a generator."  She broke her ramblings to put her hands on her hips.  "Hey, you gave me what?  Only two days?"

Tomoyo nodded dismissively.  "No use arguing; we don't have the time.  Are we safe Nakuru?"

Syaoran averted his attention to the center of the living room trying to find the second woman, but saw no one there.  A voice appeared behind him.  "Fine; we're a little too high up for my taste but it won't be too hard to secure."

He turned around to look at Nakuru's back, the tall woman busy testing the locks on the door.   "What are you doing?"

Nakuru turned around, painted lips smudging into a frown.  "Weak locks; we can fix this."  She lifted up a leg, reaching into her boot and pulling out a two rectangular cards.  "Reinforce."  Three vertical lines glowed orange.  She pressed the activated disk against the door stepping back for the wood to be replaced by metal, gleaming across the surface like spilt paint.  A second card joined the first once the door had been completely infused by metal.  "Scan."  Everything went dark, only the two cards emitting light.  The single thick line icon on the card gave off a whirling light, brilliant for a moment before dying like a crushed lightening bug.  Interspersing the resulting darkness shone a few irradiated objects, the remote in Sakura's hand, the two cards on the door, a few devices at Tomoyo's and Nakuru's waist.  "Stop."  With a violent sputter, the overhead lights broke back into life.  "All clear."

Syaoran blinked owlishly in the reestablished light, throwing a questioning look to Tomoyo.  "Yana's activated his new tunneling machine yesterday.  He knows Sakura's here in Tomoeda.  We're checking for any foreign technology.  There may be spies around."  She unstrapped her belt pack from her waist, clunking it onto the coffee table.  "Sit down; we've got a lot to go over."

_________________________________________

Syaoran glared hard at the grain of the coffee table, growing inwardly more dissatisfied as the discussion between the three girls went on.  He was still in the dark; what was his job exactly?   "Then what am I supposed to do?"

Nakuru cut off her speech midway and spared him a disinterested glance.  "We need you to make a generator powerful enough to collapse the tunnels."

"But we don't have that kind of technology on this planet.  Besides, I have no idea how to start."

Tomoyo slid a solid cube over to him.  "This is fuel from our world.  It'll be enough to crash the tunnels, but we need you to make the converter.  I have the blueprints in my pack.  I don't care if you have to steal the parts or don't know what you're doing, we need an operational coverter soon.  Follow the directions and it should be fine.  Our plans rest on this one machine."

Syaoran almost scowled in the incredulity of his burden before Sakura interrupted.  "I'll help him.  It'll be quick; he's an engineer."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem."  Tomoyo gave no moment's hesitation before diving back into her lecture.  "Yana's getting impatient; we think he's planning to invade in only a couple of days.  His army's not at full strength but two of his missiles can probably finish the job if he can get them over here.  That's why I need everyone to do whatever's in your power in stopping his main force from tunneling.  And that means you'd be willing to die to complete this mission."  She gave Syaoran a meaningful glance but upon receiving no sign of hesitation from him, she rolled out blueprints, the angular precise drawings draping across the table.  "This is the converter.  We've done some reconnaissance work before Sakura arrived and we're sure everything needed can be obtained on this planet."  She rolled the plans back up tossing them to Syaoran.  "Look this over tonight.  This is your responsibility.  We need this as quick as you can get it done if we're to even to have a chance at stopping Yana."  

"But where's Yana in your plans?"  Sakura leaned in closer to meet Tomoyo's unfaltering eyes.

"If we're lucky, he'll be trapped on our world before he can even start to tunnel."  She gave a dangerous look to Nakuru and Sakura.  "I know you want your revenge.  So do I.  But we're not putting 6 billion peoples' lives ahead of our own agendas.  I want you to understand that because I will _kill_ you if you disobey me."  They knew she would and lowered their eyes accordingly.

Syaoran sought to break the tension of the threat.  "But what are you and Nakuru doing while Sakura and I work on the converter?"

"Preparing in the daytime, patrolling at night.  Yana's probably going to send scouting parties through the tunnels these next days to look for the best strategic point in the city.  You have work tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Good, find an excuse for Sakura to join you."  Tomoyo looked up to the living room clock.  "It's time to get some sleep.  These next days will be very exhausting."

__________________________________________

Sakura peered from out behind Syaoran's bedroom door into the living room.  The shadowed pack still lay on the coffee table.  Careful to not disturb Syaoran on the couch and Tomoyo on the floor, she slunk toward the table.  With footfalls muffled by the thick carpet and her socks, she slowly unzipped Tomoyo's bag, finally arresting at the sight of a bound set of cards.  A cautious look around, she flipped randomly through the metal discs stopping at the second to last.  Lifting the card into the moonlight, she smiled gravely.  A zigzag shone in the moon before it disappeared into the folds of Sakura's pocket.  She tiptoed her way back to the bedroom, taking a wide detour from Nakuru's body at the foot of the bed.  With only a rustle of the blanket, she gave a thin sigh barely intelligible as 'promise' and closed her eyes

Tomoyo watched Sakura remove the card through half lidded eyes, but remained still.  As Sakura closed the bedroom door, she thinned her lips, rolling over to close her eyes and asleep.

___________________________________________________

The guard eyed the two approaching figures cheerfully.  "Mr. Li, good morning."

Syaoran nodded a quick reply, dragging Sakura toward the elevator.  He froze at the guard's 'ahem.'  "Oh sorry, this is a friend.  She's joining me for lunch later so I thought she could stay the morning."  

The capped man smiled at Sakura as he bent to retrieve a visitor's pass.  "You're lucky there's no top secret research going on in this building."  He was blind to twos awkward laughs.  "Well go on, you're barely early."  He shooed them to the closing elevator.

Sakura let a sigh of relief out as the doors slid shut with a ding.  "Well that wasn't too bad."

"Yeah, now to start making the machine that will save the world from domination."

Sakura suppressed a laugh when she realized there were others in the elevator, all with similar raised eyebrows directed to Syaoran's back.  "Well, when you put it that way…"    

The elevator gave a preemptory ring, stainless steel doors parting ways.  Sakura and Syaoran steeped out into a maze of halls and offices, people taking memorized routes around corners, disappearing into rooms.  "God, this is just as bad as Yana's labs."  

"Yeah, wait till you meet my supervisor.  I'm thinking he's Yana's counterpart in this dimension."  

"Ooh, I'm tingling already."  They finally stopped at a wooden door, brass plate inscribed with Syaoran's name.  "Nice office."  Sakura opened the door, a crosscurrent breeze from the open window toppling a precariously balanced stack of papers, flurrying around the room.  "I take that back."  A desk sat in the middle of the room, buried under piles of drafting blueprints and computer simulation printouts, only the tapered metal legs visible.  "How do you get work done like this?"

Syaoran swept a mass of papers off the desk, settling his briefcase in their now evacuated place.  "I get work done fine."  Removing the converter blueprints, he pushed a rolling chair towards Sakura.  "Well, get comfortable, we've got quite a long day ahead of us."

Sakura looked around her, a kingdom of papers and books.  "Don't you have a lab or somewhere we can work in?"

"Well yeah, but it's communal space.  I don't think the boss would like to see a visitor wielding a blow torch."

Sakura grinned menacingly.  "Wouldn't he?"

__________________________________________

"It's lunch time; you want something to eat?"  

Sakura looked up from the sparking wires.  "Hold on, this is not the best time to ask me questions."  An abrupt sizzling sound joined another bright flash of light.  Sakura flicked off her goggles, looking down satisfactorily at the newly joined metal pieces.  "Finally.  What did you say?"

Syaoran leaned back on his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.  "I said do you want some lunch?"

Sakura looked disconsolately down at her stomach, then up at the clock.  "Yeah, but we can't take time off; I'm barely done with the indicator."

"I was planning on ordering something and getting it delivered.  Besides, I'm still working on the phase conversion unit.  These blueprints are good but you have to admit, these parts aren't exactly the same ones we have here."

"I know, but we've got to make due.  It's not my fault you live in a such a technologically inferior world."  A crumpled piece of paper bounced pertly off Sakura's hair.  "Hey!"

_____________________________________________________

Sakura thumped her head against the top of her chair.  "We've been working for seven hours straight and we're not even half way done."

Syaoran looked up from his work.  "I guess we won't be going home on time tonight."

"Guess not."  Sakura lifted a tangle of wires and computer chips.  "Can you hand me the pliers?" 

Syaoran slid the pliers across the table, making conversation but not looking up from the smoking wires.  He talked amidst the crackling of fire and electricity, industrial drone background.  "Who taught you about all this mechanical stuff?"

"Terada mostly.  He's the resistance engineer of sorts.  Syaoran and I helped him out a few times making cards and fixing weapons and stuff."

"Oh, why didn't he tunnel here to help us?"

"He was caught during one of Yana's raids.  We've really struggled this past year trying to do everything ourselves, but without him, it's not easy."  A single high-pitched whine escaped into the office, gathering volume.  A quick click, the sound fell silent.  "Well, the signaling unit works now.  How's the converter?"

"I've got half a mind to throw it out the window.  I swear I've tied all the wires and chips together like the blueprint says, but it's just not activating."

Sakura got up and looked over Syaoran's shoulder.  "Looks right.  Did you connect the power source?"

Syaoran traced the wire on the schematic with his finger.  "Yeah, red wire to secondary control unit."  A sharp intake of breath in his ear.  "Sakura?"  He looked around to find her back to him, hand on the door.  "Something wrong?"

Sakura shook her head.  "Bathroom?"  

"Down the hall second door on the right."  Syaoran looked slightly disbelievingly as Sakura left the office.  There was something that wasn't right; her voice had a strange note in it.

________________________________________________

Panting shuddering gasps, Sakura gripped the cold stone of the sink counter.  Into the spotless mirror, she grimaced, pained reflection heaving back at her.  A cold sweat dripped from her forehead into the sink, each drop coinciding with a wave of pain that threatened to render her insides into gelatin. It was getting worse.  She'd taken a vial in the morning, but the medication could no longer hold out against the virus.  With a quivering hand, she pulled out another vial swallowing the contents with a half spasm.  Relief came after a few seconds.  She washed her face in cool water, letting her face return to its placid norm.  She only hoped she'd last long enough to see Yana defeated.  Wiping her face dry, she pulled open the door, pacing herself back down the hallway, testing her false smile on passersby.

________________________________________________

Syaoran looked up at the clock, ten.  "Should I call Tomoyo and tell her we won't be back till late?"

"Yeah, tell her I won't be able to help patrol tonight."

Syaoran waited for his answering machine.  "This is Syaoran.  We're still working on the fuel converter.  We won't be back until late; Sakura says to go on patrol without her."  As he hung up the phone, Sakura's voice sailed over, a squashed yelp of frustration.  "You got it working yet?"

"No; it's still refusing to activate, but I did finally align the timer sequence."  She met Syaoran's blank face.  "What're you thinking?"

"Nothing much, just how strange it is that there's the potential for world destruction tomorrow and we're pretty much the only people that know it."

"Funny joke huh?"   Sakura unexpectedly ducked underneath her seat, dropping to her knees and crawling under the table.  "Damn.  Do you have an extra adaptor?  I lost mine."

"Again?  That's number three Sakura.  The stockroom's going to start charging me soon."

"Liar.  You lost the first one remember?  Well come on, let's go get another one."

Syaoran blocked the doorway.  "It's ten; the stockroom's closed."

Sakura got up and pulled at her clothes, a cloud of dust now airborne. "Then we'll just have to break in."  

"What?!  I'm not going to break into the stockroom.  If I get caught, I can consider my career gone."

Sakura shrugged.  "Well think of it this way.  If we don't get this adapter, six billion people will die."

Syaoran couldn't help but smirk.  "Using that fate of humanity guilt again I see."  He folded his arms over his chest, unmoving just long enough to see Sakura pout.  "Fine let's go."

_____________________________________________________

Sakura banged her knee against a low metal shelf, groaning out an expletive.  "Let's find this adaptor before I can't use my legs anymore."

Syaoran groped along the boxes, fingering each metal piece.  "This would be a lot easier if we opened the lights."

"Not unless you want to be caught by a guard.  Remember?  Your career?"

"Fine, I think I got it."  Syaoran removed an object, nestling in his palm.  He squinted in the near darkness.  "No wait, that's not it."

Sakura sighed.

_____________________________________________________

Author's Notes:  Actual action next chapter and a look into Yana.  Bring film.


	9. Phoenix To Ashes

Author's Notes:  Yep, I'm definitely near the end of this fic.  I think two more chapters after this one, maybe three.  And it's my favourite fic to write so just wanted to say thanks to whoever reads it.  This is a longish chapter, and the next may be longer.  And *gasp* something tragic happens here!

Big Thanks to **aleris**, **mya**, **Rhea-chan** (ahem, your agreement, ahem), **Little Blossom**. 

Slipping Away 

Chapter 9:  Phoenix To Ashes

Yana stretched, leaning back into his chair and putting his feet up on his glass desk.  The sun's light streamed in an angry red, the hazy skies distorting the colours like warped steel.  He felt different today, more alive than any of the others, skin prickling with the anticipation of having another world to play in, to explore and control.  His generals were arduously filtering all their scenarios through their mental logistics, filling the blanks for 'what if' and 'how do we?'  Meanwhile he waited, impatiently and feeling happier than he had for a long time.  A strange, exotic land with endless things to see.

He hadn't been happy for a while, like having a gradual indifference to life root itself into his consciousness for the past decade.  There were those little distractions that he felt alive for a moment—the resistance, various uprisings, plans to tunnel, but they didn't provide any prolonged satisfaction, and life was, as he rationalized it, all about finding pleasure.

It all had to do with luck and skill.  He couldn't feel sorry or sympathize with those who criticized him for being heartless and spoiled.  It wasn't his fault that he had the determination, luck and will that led him to his throne.  It could've been the next person over in his shoes.  It just proved that he had the right to rule; he was only finding his full potential and there was no golden rule about being denied the right to achieve.  Fair was fair, wasn't it?

He couldn't understand the populous, why they complained and suffered, especially those in the resistance.  They had the want to live better but wouldn't take the initiative above crude little rebellions and thefts to really change things.  And for Yana, nothing would've been better than to have a worthy adversary, someone to actually try and take away all he had.  There would've been that excitement, that pounding of the heart, that danger that stirred him.  In the early days of the Resistance he had poured endless nights into planning counter strategies and preventative measures like an absorbing game of chess, capture and sacrifice, but sadly the Resistance wasn't that sought after rival.  And in end, it was only a bother, like a mosquito that one could only ignore for so long before smashing it under one's palm.

Yana loved to play, childish in a sense, bearing with it all the misconceptions of youth—being guaranteed the victor and that the only thing that mattered was himself.  His value system never faltered, leading him onward without learning the valuable lessons of knowing loss and making mistakes.  And yet in another sense, he wasn't a child; he knew the consequences of his actions, knew the value of power and money, understood the give and take between the members of his administration.  But somewhere in himself was missing the crucial linkage between compassion and drive, the actual realization of the emotional cost of his playing.

He clicked the intercom on his desk, the crackling static like crinkled chocolate foil.  "Get me General Hasaki."

"Yes sir," the nasal secretary replied.

There was a discreet knock at the door, nothing more than a drumming of fingers across the wood.  Yana uprighted himself, linking his hands in front of him, the picture of attention.  "Come in."

The elderly general stood rigidly in front of Yana, uniform fleckless and black boots like a dark mirror.  "You wanted to speak to me, sir."

"Yep."  Yana abandoned his arch manner, leaning back against the chair, feet tapping out a maddeningly erratic rhythm.  "I wanted to see how the preparations were coming along."

"Very good sir.  There've been a few setbacks but my sergeants tell me that we can begin our invasion in a week."

"A week?"  Yana frowned, the prospect of a seven-day wait displeasing.  "Can't we hurry them up?"

Hasaki coughed neutrally.  "A full scale invasion needs a lot of man power sir, and we simply haven't gotten all the organization ready yet."

Yana's tapping turned to his fingers, thumping like gongs against the mostly bare glass desk surface.  He had retained the childlike notion that between points A and B was a clear-cut straight line, that each problem had a very simple and obvious answer.  "Well then don't have a full scale invasion.  I'm sure a few of my missiles will be enough for my purposes.  And that means we don't need your thousands of men.  Actually…"  He trailed off, mentally ticking his options.  "Actually I'll send in a scouting mission tonight and find the best place to tunnel, and then we can invade in two days or even tomorrow."  

"Sir…"  Hasaki trailed off, hastily biting off his protest at the sight of Yana's building irritation.  "As you wish.  However, as you know there is a matter of some Resistance members to deal with."

Yana arched a disinterested eyebrow.  "Oh, Daidouji and her accomplices on the other world?  I _suppose_ they will have to be dealt with.  Add a few more scouts to tonight's mission and arm then with whatever cards you deem appropriate."

"Understood.  Would you like to see the full roster on the mission for tonight after I've assembled them?"

"No need.  I trust your judgment."  Yana gave a very disarming smile, not without its own genuineness but intermingled with a vicious indifference that seemed to say he wouldn't shirk from having Hasaki publicly dismembered for fun.

Hasaki quickly withdrew, footsteps fading down the hall.  Yana turned his thoughts back to his plans, the ripple of enjoyment coursing through him once again.  He sighed blissfully, painting the vivid landscapes and people that were beyond the portal in his head.

In many ways Yana wasn't the picture of tyranny, not the despot with the grave bloodiness of mass slaughter constantly in his thoughts.  His thoughts most of the time were innocuous as the rest of humanity, little worries about the home, wondering over curious things, recalling unguarded memories.  There could almost be a sense of friendship between him and those around him if that lurking force of his personality didn't strike a wholly sour note once people knew him better.  Superficiality was his friend, the gloss of him smiling benevolently and encouragingly ruling through two-dimensional media.  In person he inspired fear, a thick twisted sense of morality and conflict resolution warping his otherwise charming smile into something sinister.

He sighed happily, reclining and shut his eyes to daydream.

_______________________________________________

Tomoyo arose quietly, careful not to wake Syaoran sleeping on the couch.  She twisted a kink from her neck with quick precision.  She yawned hard expelling a sleepy breath and raked her fingers through her long hair.  Fistfuls of hair, she combed them quickly with her fingers, breaking through knots and wincing silently as some strands pulled from her scalp.  She sat up, eyes darting to the window, momentarily affronted by the orange light of morning.  It wasn't the perpetual red of her world, and the sky wasn't choked with an impenetrable layer of dust and debris.  Noiselessly, she approached the balcony, sliding open the door and stepping into the morning's wet cool air.  The world opened up in front of her, fantasy turned real, memory relived.  "We had that…"

"Twenty years ago," someone finished.  Tomoyo snapped her head to the right, her reflexes to lean into a defensive position and hands grabbing for her waist where her gun would usually rest.  Sakura stood on the adjacent bedroom balcony, leaning over the rails.  She didn't smile, but remained transfixed on the street below.  "Wonderful isn't it?  We had this…"

Tomoyo nodded, taking a deep breath air and absorbing the blessed normality of everything around her.  "Makes you think that everything could be okay."

Sakura quirked an eyebrow, smiling.  "I'm not detecting a bit of optimism from Daidouji Tomoyo am I?"

"I guess you can't help it when you see all those people down there smiling and laughing."  Tomoyo paused, taking an appraising look at Sakura.  "How are you doing?"

Sakura straightened and sighed, giving a dry cough.  "It's getting worse.  I need a vial everyday now."

"Oh; how many do you have left?"

"The way it's going, I'll probably last another week or so."

"Are you feeling okay?"

Sakura looked upwards, watching a cloud slide across the blue.  She smiled.  "I don't feel as bad as I probably should.  It's strange, but I'm actually a little happy."

Tomoyo allowed her mouth to turn upward slightly.  "Syaoran?"

"Yeah.  I know he's not my Syaoran but I don't know, I feel better with him around."

"It sounds strange Sakura, but I envy you.  You found love for a while; that's something I've never known."

Sakura laughed mirthlessly.  "Well, you're not the one dying.  After we stop Yana, you'll have plenty of time here to look for someone."

Tomoyo's voice was disinterested, flat.  "Will I?  All I've known for a long time has been the Resistance.  It won't be easy to lead a normal life…"  A low moan came from behind her.  "Sounds like Syaoran's awake.  You better go get ready; you've got work to do."

Sakura nodded, stepping halfway into the bedroom before walking out again.  "I have faith in you, Tomoyo."  She walked off the balcony, disappearing into the dimness of Syaoran's bedroom.

Tomoyo looked to the city skyline.  "Thanks, Sakura."

________________________________________________

Nakuru chewed thoughtfully, watching Tomoyo's vacant stare from across the dining table.  "The food bad?"

Tomoyo stirred, automatically picking up her sandwich.  "God no, this is probably the best thing I've had for over a year.  I'm just thinking about what we're going to do when the time comes."

"We'll do what we always do.  Fight."

"Against his whole army?  The way I see it we have three possible scenarios."

Nakuru dropped her spoon into her soup, pushing the bowl aside.  As usual, planning and the fight superceded any semblance of peace.  "Three?"

"Best case, worst case, and somewhere in between.  Best case is we get to the tunnel right as they open it and collapse it.  Simple and quick.  Worst case is if we get there too late and Yana's already got his heavy weaponry and army through.  In that case, we'll be fighting like hell and we're all but screwed.  I think we'll probably get something between those two cases.  We'd have to fight our way through the army and collapse the tunnel before the weaponry gets through."

"You make it almost sound easy," Nakuru sarcastically commented.

"Don't I?  The invasion's close; I can feel it.  All our work's come down to this, all our reconnaissance and planning.  We have to make a full plan today now that we've got a good idea of what this Tomoeda looks like.  I'm having Syaoran and Sakura collapse the tunnel so that means you and I are going to be handling the emerging Corpsmen."

"Great, like a walk in the park."

"Luckily, we've got a tunnel tracker with us.  We'll most likely get there early and only have to deal with a dozen or so Corpsmen."

"Yeah."  Both relapsed into silence, finishing their lunches waiting for the calmness seep back into the air.  It didn't.

____________________________________________

Yana gave a yawn, lazily turning another page.  The small fine print lost its clarity as the sun's red impression began to dim appreciably.  He carefully placed a bookmark against the spine and lay the tome on the table.  The sunsets weren't spectacular anymore like twenty years ago, but certainly interesting to watch.  The red intensified steadily as the orb sank, but then choked out of existence into gray black when it hit the densest layer of debris in the air.  

He stepped out of the balcony and back into his living room.  The phone was ringing.  "Yes?"

The voice on the other end bore down respectfully and solemnly.  "Sir, this is General Hasaki.  I've finished preparations for the scouting mission.  They are planning to embark in three hours time on the hour and return two hours after landing."

"Very good Hasaki.  Have their commander meet me directly after he has returned."

"Understood."

Yana replaced the receiver and stared unseeingly at a framed piece of art.  He felt his heartbeat thrum in his chest, warmth coursing along his limbs.  This was excitement; this was all that made life important.  Who knew, he might be in his new paradise by tomorrow…  He sat down on the couch and let himself drift among the various pleasant thoughts in his head.

____________________________________________

Tomoyo felt the familiar lurching motion of her gun as its cartridge locked into place.  For over ten years she'd known the cool slick touch of a gun, the same shuddering motion of each release.  It was an extension of herself, and as much as she wished it weren't, it'd probably always be a part of her.  She inherited the position of regional Resistance leader, years working in the darkest places, alone, in silent groups, but always isolated one way or another.  

As she looked around her, the clean apartment, the bright unfaltering sunset light that shone into the room, the clear air, the unblurred city skyline, she was aware of all that she missed.  Shut off from herself so long there wasn't any time for knowing that she had hope, that maybe there was something more than revenge that drove her.  And yet, she wasn't a martyr; she killed and stole and did whatever was necessary for her goals.  She grudgingly accepted that she had become Yana.  The end always seemed to justify the means.  

But she'd made a silent promise to herself that she'd never become him.  When everything was over, she'd still be able to say she did something that she was proud of.  Unconsciously she sought redemption for a reason she didn't know.

The phone rang.  Tomoyo continued taking equipment from her pack   She pulled out the cards, a few extra guns, the cubed fuel.  She fit an earpiece snugly into her ear, attaching the thin microphone wire to her face with a strip of elastic tape.  Another ring.  Nakuru stood in front of the windows, swiveling around and watching the blinking screen in her hand.  Another ring.  

Tomoyo flipped quickly though the cards, quickly picking out those of use.  She slipped ten cards into her pack and strapped her holster around her waist.  The answering machine picked up.  Tomoyo listened to Syaoran's message, checking the remaining pile of cartridges in front of her.  "Looks like we're down a person."  A final check of her pockets, she tested out her limbs, moving them around fluidly, limber and strong.

Nakuru remained silent, standing at the balcony windows.  She tensed.  "There's a power spike building somewhere east of here.  It might be a tunnel." 

"Then we can't waste any time."  Tomoyo took up her gun, fitting it snugly in its holster.  

Nakuru strapped her weapon to her thigh, giving a strange vain examination of her likeness in the window.  Her reflected red lips curled.  "Let's go; we've only got fifteen minutes."

They rushed up four flights up the stairs, throwing open the last thick metal door.  The roof blew of solitude, cool and humid.  The path of broken ledges, tarmac ground and weathered mouldings stood between Syaoran's apartment and the point of emergence.  Quick footsteps, rat-tat-tat across the tops of buildings, both women closed the distance like blearing shadows skimming across the skyline.

_______________________________________________________

The harbor glistened with activity, slow large ships crossing the waters, workers unloading and loading midnight shipments, bars alive with drunken activity.   The overpowering stench of fish and grease saturated the air.  "The power signature's really strong now.  The tunnel's probably already open; we're two blocks off."

"Damn.  We'll have to hurry; we can't risk them sending reinforcements."  Tomoyo rappelled from the top of a cannery, landing with a scrape of boots.  

Nakuru flashed a signal down at Tomoyo as she quickly leapt onto the adjoining rooftop.  She pressed her earpiece closer to her head, taking another jump.  "Make a right, down past this next warehouse."  Her heels crashed, harsh, metallic, as she bounded to the slanting tin sheets.  The scanner in her hand jumped.  "I'm in place."  Nakuru took a cautious look over the edge, the alley below her empty save for a pulsing portal.  She trailed a hand down her thigh, feeling the metal of the remote.  "I see the portal; I don't think any of the Corps are here yet."

"Good," came Tomoyo's voice in Nakuru's ear.  Tomoyo appeared in the alley gun already drawn and directed ahead.  "Activate."  The circle icon blazed in the darkness.   Tomoyo crouched low to the ground, gun aimed at the tunnel.  "Shut it down."

Nakuru turned her attention to her hand, the remote buttons jutting out for her attention.  "Close."  The device hummed as the tunnel beneath her glowed with closure, sending off sharp waves of light, folding into non-existence.  She narrowed her eyes, one of the final bursts of light curving around the profile of a uniformed man in the shadows.  "It's an ambush!"

Tomoyo flipped to her side sharply at Nakuru's warning, a smooth blade of metal slicing across her leg, the same position where her back had just been.  She jerked backward to face the Corpsman, gun discharging.  The energy brushed him, falling him to one knee.  "Shit."  Almost feeling the shadow enveloped corps, she hurtled down the alleyway, suddenly aware of the energy discharges that repeated grate on her shield.

Nakuru stood up quickly, distractingly.  "Hey!"  She framed herself in the moonlight, gun pointed downward, lips brutally red.  Grimly amused, she reflected she always had a touch for the dramatic.  Several spheres of energy came up to meet her, dissipating around her shield.  She fired after a few figures chasing after Tomoyo out of the alleyway but failed to hit them, finding them out of range.  She leapt to the other rooftop, discharging into the shadows.  Shouted commands came from below as her blasts deflected off raised shields, flickering like rapid lightening flashes.  Apparently her gun wouldn't work here.  Fishing a cube of sand from her pocket, she blew against it, the granules descending between the two buildings, instant haze obscuring vision.    

Leaping down into the fog, she spied two vague silhouettes facing the other way, poised on the attack.  Curling her fingers around the rubber grip of her knife, she flattened herself against the wall.  Slow footsteps.  One foot, inches closer.  No breath as she stood behind them, blade ready.  She struck nearly noiselessly, only a rustle of cloth and some quick moans before the sleek edge cut them off.  Unfortunately, the feeble echoes rebounded along the brick walls, a wave of weapons discharges slamming against her shield from smeared blobs in the dark.  Her shield wouldn't hold for long.  She flung a card against the brick, the zigzag glyph activated.  "Collapse."  With barely enough time to tumble out of the alley, the brick seemed to melt then crack, raining into a jumble of debris.  A thick cloud of dust flew up to meet her breath.  She coughed and surveying the destruction.  The wall and much of the roof of the warehouse had come down in a pile of brick clumps and metal beams.  There were no signs of the Corps; she heaved a deep musty breath.

______________________________________________

Tomoyo gritted her teeth, the energy discharges behind her breaking through shield's defenses.  With a wounded leg, she hobbled down the wharf, throwing herself into the nearest alley.  Two corpsmen passed by, sprinting along the original walk.  

She forced breath through clenched teeth and carefully rolled up her left pant leg, grimacing in pain at the dark blackish stain.  Tracing a finger across the laceration, she smiled grimly.  The wound was a fairly deep but clean, cut diagonal across her the outside of her calf.  It wasn't bleeding much but opened painfully every time she moved that leg.  She took out her own knife, carefully slicing strips from her stained pants, gingerly tying them across the wound.  A flash of pain jolted through her, and she hoped she'd be able to pick off the rest of the corps before she was completely immobilized.

The sound of water splashing and clunking moorings bounded eerily from the dock behind her.  Tomoyo slinked along the alley wall, making her way away from the bay.  There was a quick rustle to her right.  She twisted herself around against the left wall, just quick enough to avoid a fist emerging from a darkened doorway.  The corpsman's face appeared immediately after, striking out with a knife.  Tomoyo gripped the man's wrist, twisting it downward until the blade dropped to the ground with a clink.  He shoved her backward, banging harshly against the wall and throwing a punch again.  Tomoyo moved her head to the right, the man's knuckle crunching against concrete.  He swore and she took advantage, sending a swift knee into his gut and crushing an elbow against his bowed head.  The soldier slumped to the ground, crumpling.  

Tomoyo stepped over the corpsman, throwing herself into the doorway.  There were rapid footsteps of people running nearby.  She felt for the door's knob, twisting it.  It wasn't locked.  The warehouse was fairly dark, walls of metal barrels lining all four sides.  They were cool to the touch, almost icy, a thin red emblem of flames captioned with 'Caution' branded on them.  She took a few more steps inside, feeling the strange stirring in her stomach that came with knowing she was being watched.  She reached for her gun, circling around to watch the darkness and wonder where the other soldiers were.  

There was a tapping sound somewhere above her.  She broke into a sprint in the opposite direction.  A barrage of energy blasts suddenly erupted from hiding places around her, the discharges slamming against what remained of her shield.  With an abrupt sound of wind roaring, the shield card failed, burning blasts flying past her.  The heat was intense, and she tried to dodge them by diving for a large crate.  An energy discharge skimmed by her, searing through the cord of her pack.  Her holster and pouch dropped away from her, the cards falling out of their pocket and scattering across the floor like silver splayed matchbooks.  She landed hard a foot short of the crate.  The gunfire pressed closer; her own gun was inaccessible at least three feet away.  "Damn."  Tomoyo quickly snatched up the nearest card and flung herself behind the crate.

The whoosh of guns tapered into silence.  There were scuffling footsteps, getting closer and fanning off to the sides.  Tomoyo cursed under her breath; they were trapping her in.  She backed up, finding herself dead-ended against an island of metal barrels.  A voice came from the dark, just as four corpsmen stepped into view around her, two to the right, two to the left.  "Surrender yourself."

There wasn't much Tomoyo could do.  She got up to see the commander looming just in front of the crate, his gun drawn and pointed levelly at her face.  His eyes flicked up momentarily at the card in her hand.  He sneered.  "If that's a Shield card, we can kill you before you can summon it."

Tomoyo knew that they could, but probably wouldn't.  A drop of sweat trailed its way down the right side of her face.  She wouldn't have been as nervous if she knew there was the guarantee of death.  But she couldn't be sure, and Yana had ways to make people talk.  If this mission failed, the Resistance had to go on.  She was too valuable a member to be captured; she knew too much.  "I surrender."  She held up her arms obediently.   

Tomoyo stole a quick glance to her right hand up in the air, metal card glinting in between her fingers, a forked line icon on the silver base.  She closed her eyes and pressed herself close to the canisters, the metallic ridges digging into her back.   She would keep the Resistance's secrets to the end.  With almost a small triumphant smile she stared hard at the commander's face, two feet off.  He suspected nothing.  "Ignite."  The card whined to life and there was a small explosion, a bare moment before a much large one.  Any screams were overtaken by the roar of oil drums bursting into flames.

________________________________________________

Nakuru flung her head toward the sound, a sudden rumble like intense thunder.  The warehouse in the line of her vision exploded, a rapid heat infusing the surrounding air.  She scrambled to her feet, taking running strides away from the obliterated building, away from the flames that licked furiously at everything near them.  She gave a momentary pause knowing what this meant and turned her head resolutely away from the destruction.  She didn't see a pale blue shimmer from a side dock; it folded itself away just before she passed her gaze over the spot.  Hastily she wiped the lipstick off her lips, streaking the back of her had red, and let her hair fall flatly over a side of her face.  She pushed into the developing crowd, losing herself in a sea of horrified gazes.  

______________________________________________

Yana picked up the ringing phone, closing his book once again.  "Yes?"

The voice on the other end faltered slightly.  "Y-You wanted to be told when the scouting mission returned, sir."

Yana looked at the wall clock, thirty-five past midnight.  "They're very early.  Was there a problem?"

"Y-Yes sir.  I think you would like to hear about it in person."

He sighed, getting himself off the couch.  "Fine; have the commander meet me in my conference room."

"Sir, he's badly injured and can't be moved.  We'll need to sedate him, and we thought it best that you talk to him before he's asleep.  He's in medic room 3 in complex B-1."

Yana gave an exasperated groan.  "Yes, fine.  I'll be there in a few minutes."  He set his face blank though he had a feeling he knew what had happened.

_____________________________________________

A doctor met Yana as he approached the patient beds.  "The patient is in the examination room, sir."

Yana followed the old man underneath the fluorescent lights into an organized, sterile room.  The corpsman was prone on the table, a nurse standing over him asking various questions.  The man saw Yana out of the corner of his eye and struggled to sit up, but the doctor restrained him.  "S-sir."

Yana nodded at the doctor and stepped closer to stare down at the soldier.  "Who are you?"

The patient spoke with willowy breaths.  "I'm Corporal Masuhara sir."

"Where is your commander?"

"I don't know.  We met the Resistance group.  Some of us went after Daidouji, but Azukizi caught two of us by surprise and then collapsed a wall on the rest of us before we could follow."

Yana almost smiled.  Azukizi could've gone far if she were still with him.  "What about the rest of the group?"

The man grimaced in pain.  "I don't know.  I was at the end of the alley, only got hit by a few blocks.  I don't think the others were as lucky.  There was an explosion in a warehouse farther down the harbor.  I didn't check for survivors; I tunneled back as soon as I could."

"And your mission?"

"We got some scans of the harbor area before Daidouji got there.  They're in my scanner."  Masuhara clutched at his side, taking jagged breaths.

The doctor was drawing a clear liquid into a syringe.  "Sir?"

"Yes, yes, sedate him."

After Masuhara had quieted, Yana pulled the doctor away.  "How badly is he injured?"

The doctor shrugged.  "He's got a few broken ribs and we don't know if he's got internal bleeding, but I think he'll be fine."

"Good."  Yana slipped into his gracious disarming smile.  "Now, where is his scanner?"

________________________________________________

General Hasaki skimmed down the files, the computer's low glow angular against his features.  "There's some possibility for this complex here."  He pointed to a square outline on the screen.

Yana looked over Hasaki's shoulder.  "I don't think so.  It's too close to tonight's emergence point.  Besides, the scans show that Daidouji came from the south and west."

"Sir, we don't have complete scans of Tomoeda.  We can't take the risk of emerging randomly. We are confined to the harbour area right now.  However, if we can send in another reconnaissance mission…"

Yana interrupted him sharply.  "No, we're following my time table.  As I was saying, since Daidouji came from the south and west, we should search for emergence points in the north, east too if we can manage it."  Hasaki obediently moved the map up and to the right.  He came up to the end of the scanning region.  Yana squinted his eyes, going over the computer readouts on the bottom.  "Zoom in on section twelve, building 1-C."  The computer enlarged a rectangle on the edge of the water.  Yana thumped the computer counter in victory.  "That's it! That'll be the new emergence point.  It's empty, it's large enough and we get a view of the bay.  Perfect."

Hasaki gave a discreet cough, always preempting an attempt at asserting some logic.  "Sir, Daidouji can track our tunneling.  If she gets there…"

Yana rolled his eyes.  "If she gets there, she's dead.  We're at least a mile from tonight's site, and thus a mile farther away from Daidouji's base of operations.  We'll probably have two of my battalions through before she even gets within earshot.  She won't be a problem."

"Sir…"

"Hasaki, if you 'sir' me again, I won't be very pleasant."  Hasaki clamped his mouth shut.  "I'm glad you agree.  Now let's get down to final planning.  After all we've got a world to take over in a few hours don't we?"

Hasaki would've looked sad for a moment if his discipline hadn't prevented any show of emotion.  "Yes, sir." 

___________________________________________________

Author's Note:  Ooh, sorry for the character death, but it was really needed; I didn't want that kind of 'all the bad guys die, none of the good guys gets hurt' thing.  It'd be too unrealistic.  And everything's all action-adventurey now.  Yay!


	10. Morning After

Author's Notes:  Phew, I got this part done fairly quickly.  Sorry, no big action here, but the next chapter's the end, except for a short nice epilogue.

Thanks to **mya** (sorry, no Eriol in this fic), **Rhea** (heh, get away.  Um…this fic will end happily, someway or another.), **Jessica**, **Sillly*Niecy** (You don't annoy me…yet. =) You got the episode question thing.  From changing the Return Card.  Yeah, I put the 'cards' in here somewhat. Thanks for the death threat; it's always nice to get one.)

Disclaimer:  So what if I say CCS is mine?  *lawyer wielding cartoon mallet*  Eep…sorry, CCS is not mine.

Slipping Away 

Chapter 10:  Morning After

Syaoran opened the door his apartment, still getting used to the new metal door.  Sakura followed from behind, her head on his shoulder, leaning her weight into him.  They were exhausted, having finally finished the converter at two in the morning and getting three hours of sleep before getting up and trudging home.  If the converter would work was still yet to be tested.  Syaoran flopped onto the sofa, burying his head into the pillow and yawning as widely as his mouth would allow.

He vaguely heard Sakura 'oomphing' into the armchair next to his, groaning.  "I'm exhausted.  I don't think I can move an inch."

Syaoran nodded, reveling in the dizzy languor that always came before a long and refreshing sleep.  "I'm taking a long nap; wake me up next week."

"Sure," came Sakura's equally listless reply, slurred and trailing off.

The apartment stood silent for a while, until the sudden crash of the bedroom door being flung open ripped through the quiet. Sakura jerked from her light sleep, snapping her eyes open and reaching for an object nearby to defend herself with.  Her bleary eyes slowly clarified, focusing on Nakuru's figure standing in the doorway, intense red lips thinned into a hard blankness.  "Nakuru?"

Nakuru tightened her belt, securing her pack against her back.  "Tomoyo's dead.  I want to discuss the plan with you and Syaoran."  She walked into the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards.

Sakura clutched the armrests in a futile attempt at letting the waves of panic subside.  Tomoyo was dead?  She hardened her face, focusing on the blinding anger than the pain.  It hurt, even as they were never very close, but Tomoyo did everything in her power to make others' lives a little better.  Sakura swiped a rough hand across her eyes, wiping away the stray moisture.  She leaned over to the large couch and nudged Syaoran.  He was still sleeping, fidgeting under her touch and rolling around.  She shook him harder, evoking a few mumbled sleep sodden words and finally got him to open an eye.  "Tomoyo's dead."

Syaoran wondered if he was dreaming, a blurry Sakura telling him Tomoyo was dead, the distorted sounds of something opening and shutting.  But as his mind cleared, he found the truth in her words, jerking upright in a confused awareness.  "She's dead?"  He wasn't familiar with Tomoyo; she was methodical, cold, reserved, and yet he felt the loss too.  "How?"

Sakura's words were crisp, forced into a deceptive calm.  "I don't know.  Get up; we'll ask Nakuru and adjust our plans."

_______________________________________________

There was silence at the table as they all ate mechanically, chew and swallow.  "A scouting party came through a portal last night."

Sakura wiped her mouth with a napkin.  "How did she die?"

"Explosion.  I didn't see her after we got separated, but an oil warehouse exploded.  The corps would never draw that kind of attention to themselves.  She couldn't have survived."

"So what do we do now?"  Sakura questioned.

It all seemed so cold to Syaoran, just moving on without time to remember, to grieve to even show that they cared at all for Tomoyo.  But then, he reflected, their world lived with death like an everyday occurrence, something to be informed of and then best forgotten so you could deal with the next big crisis.

"The plan doesn't change much; I'll have to take on the emerging battalions alone.  You and Syaoran need to collapse the tunnel."  

Syaoran got up and dropped a wrapped device onto the table.  "I think it's finished.  What do we do with it?"

It was Sakura who answered, coughing.  "Attach the fuel and adhere it…to one of the tunnel walls."  By the end, she was hissing out hard breaths, her coughing getting more and more pronounced.  She knew that something had changed; all the symptoms, the familiar pains had all intensified and become something altogether different.  Her breath didn't burn in the same fuzzy kind of way; it was sharp and piercing, flowing through her as if her blood was on fire.  Her hands and feet were getting numb, tingling.  Jerkily she reached into her clothes and pulled out a vial, swallowing the unctuous liquid and feeling her insides burning even harder.  The medicine had always been instantaneous, but it seemed wholly ineffective now.  She reached for another vial, breaking the seal and drinking the contents.  The fire quieted then, slowly fading into the after effects of the illness.  She slumped over onto the table, heaving breathless gasps waiting for her lungs to stop seizing.  Her body seemed to have lost the ability to coordinate, each limb laying twisted out of the norm and limp in their respective places.  When her vision started to dispel the pained stars, she registered a strong grip around her shoulders, keeping her up in the seat.  "Thanks…"

Syaoran mumbled a reply, still caught up in the paralyzing moment.  His hands clenched themselves hard into Sakura's shoulder muscles, his arms lifting her slight weight so that she barely rested in the chair's seat.  When her breathing had returned to a normal rhythm he shifted his weight a little, using the leverage to pick Sakura up and move her to the living room sofa.  This was his reality, the one thing he never quite understood.  She was dying, that he knew and accepted, but it was always assumed to be a quiet death, one of those peaceful deals in passing away in one's sleep.  And even through the first blood spatter of their first meeting, he kept his foundationless belief.  But he knew the truth now, the insidiousness of her disease, the kind that wrenched your insides and made you beg for a quick death only to suffer even more excruciating pain as you got closer to the end.  Underneath the concern, the gentle movements not to disturb Sakura, he felt the blinding anger building up behind his eyes, a darkness that tried to compel him to search out and destroy just for the sake of revenge, to take all his pain and frustration and unleash it onto the cruel world.

"Syaoran?"  

He scratched out his thoughts, staring back down at Sakura who had finally calmed down to normal.  She was smiling, a weak, barely there smile, edged with a kind of soft familiarity that Syaoran would swear that he'd always known.  And yet, with the refractive eyes and the faint lines on her forehead, there was pain.  He smiled back, a half wooden fabrication that seemed to say 'everything will be okay, though neither you or me believe it.'  "Are you better?"

Sakura breathed in a deep, faltering breath, frightened of the pain that might come if she forced too much of her lungs.  But her body was still as it was the week before, the month before, a year before, the faint warmth and fuzziness.  She knew Syaoran's smile was false, but accepted it anyway, taking his hand and squeezing it for what it was worth.  For a moment, she could almost believe she was with her Syaoran, in their dingy apartment, treasuring matching foil rings as if they were real jewels.  She frowned, just a pointless fantasy.  "Yeah, fine."  She ignored the soreness in her shoulders and got up into a sitting position.  "Where were we?"

Nakuru responded first, suppressing Syaoran's objection to Sakura sitting up with a stern disapproving look.  "You were explaining how you'll collapse the tunnel."

"Un.  We adhere it to the tunnel wall and set the timer.  Once the fuel conversion starts, we'll have a couple of minutes to get back out or we'll be destroyed when the support structure goes."

Syaoran nodded.  "And if we meet up with people in the tunnel?"

Nakuru had turned away, watching her face in a compact mirror.  Her crimson lips moved with her voice.  "You do whatever's necessary to collapse the tunnel.  Even if you have to shield the device with your own bodies."

"And what'll you do?"  Syaoran's voice had taken an edge to it, cold and grave, his analytical thoughts circling around the probabilities of his survival and coming up with the dismal answer of a snowflake's chance in hell.

"I'm fending off the emerging battalions.  Yana's army comes in battalions of twenty; they'll probably tunnel that way.  If we get to the emergence point quickly enough, we'll probably only have to deal with one or two battalions."

Sakura leaned off the couch, reaching for Tomoyo's pack lying on the table.  She forced the pang of loss under her control and started to sift through the contents.  "Do we have enough to defend ourselves with?"

Nakuru nodded, extracting a pair of guns from her holsters.  "I loaded these this morning.  Take yours."

Sakura smiled a little, morbidly happy at the sight of the guns.  They were hers and Syaoran's, the pair that she'd left behind when she tunneled.  She took the left one, carefully snapping the safety off.  "Take the other one Syaoran.  It was his."

Syaoran hesitantly lifted the cold steel, fumbling around for the latch that Sakura had flicked on hers.  He slowly brought the button into place.  "Just point and shoot?"

"Pretty much; it has a powerful recoil so keep your arms flexed when you fire."

___________________________________________

The sun rose from the horizon, a red angry ball that Sakura found strangely compelling; it was just like her world.  Everything was in chaos, a scattering of odd equipment, cards and clothes.  Nakuru was tuning the scanner out on the balcony, pressing and changing the settings, the odd beeps and clicks coming every other second.  Syaoran dumped a heap of clothing onto the floor, followed by the clunking of various pairs of shoes.  "So?"

Sakura crawled closer to the tangle of shirts and pants, feeling the fabric and weight of each item.  She began to sort, throwing each article in different piles.  After a flurry of crumpled cloth and clicking buttons, she held up jeans and a button up shirt.  "These.  Don't button the last shirt button; it'll help you move better."  She cast a cursory glance over the hapless shoes.  "Take that beat up pair of sneakers; you'll feel more familiar in them."

Nakuru opened the sliding glass door.  "Done with the wardrobe selection?"

Sakura smiled.  "You know me, always in style…"  She looked down at her own patched up clothes, the stitches on various rips like vicious scar tissue.

Syaoran rejoined them, in his new 'fighting clothes' taking a seat on the couch.  "What else?"

Nakuru spared him a quick glance.  "Just a few cards."  She bent over the scattered remains of Tomoyo's cards and picked up three metallic cards.  "Since I'm going to be taking on the battalions, I'm taking most of these with me.  I'm giving you two Shields and Fire.  You hold them in your hands and call the summoning commands.  Shield's command is 'activate,' Fire's 'ignite.' Remember them, you're screwed if you forget them."  She threw two cards at Sakura.  "I can only spare two for you.  I'm giving you Sword and Float.  Try and make due with them."

Sakura nodded, sliding a thumb over the green arrow depression on the Sword card.  "Like an old friend…"

Syaoran frowned, puzzled, but shook it off.  He stretched out his hands to take up the cards on the table when a strange beep sounded from the edge of the table.  "What's wrong?"

Nakuru snatched up the tracker, staring at the blinking screen.  She turned around, her eyes never leaving the device.  "Shit."  She slid the tracker under her waist cord and hastily snatched up the remaining cards on the table.  "There's a tunnel opening.  Come on!  Get your stuff; this might be the invasion."

Sakura blanched and shakily shoved the cards in to her pockets, grabbing her gun and following Nakuru onto the balcony.   "Where is it?"

Nakurau pointed eastward, toward the bay.  "A mile north of last night's emergence point."  She switched on her microphone.  "You and Syaoran take the ground route.  I'll track you and tell you the way through your earpiece."

Sakura nodded, running back into the apartment.  "We're taking the ground route."

Syaoran paused for a moment, taking in the feeling of his apartment, all those possessions that littered the small space.  This was quite possibly the last time he'd ever see them again, and he felt it with a quivering sense of fear.  But ultimately, the cause was great than him, as was Sakura.  He ran after her, slamming the front door shut.  He turned back before the metal slid into place in the doorjamb to see Nakuru's legs disappear into the balcony above.

_______________________________________________________

Author's Notes:  Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I've got the next chapter already done.  Will take some editing so expect it out next week.


	11. End Game

Author's Notes:  Okay, so this is pretty much the last of the real story, but there will be an epilogue for the happy ending.  And sorry for taking so long; it's been such a long month and with ff.net censoring things, it's making me feel so crappy as a writer.  What's the point of writing if people are just going to deny you the chance to share it with others?  Anyway, review please?  It'd ever be so cheering me up-py.  

Thanks to **Silly*Niecy**, **Rhea** (you conniving little…grr), **Riley S**, **aleris**. 

Disclaimer:  I swear on ff.net's unfairness that I do not own CCS.

Slipping Away 

Chapter 11:  End Game

The trees flew by, a whir of green and reds as Syaoran pelted down the park path.  Sakura was in front of him, matching his speed, taking lefts and rights, weaving through skaters and couples.  He had no inkling of where he was, lost in the jumble of images and rapid direction changes.  Everyone around them had that leisurely look about them, the mindless indulgence of knowing there will be a tomorrow, the span of their years laying ahead of them like a golden road.  He pressed himself faster, lungs burning with strain.

'Left,' Nakuru's voice commanded as Sakura measured the fork in the path ahead.  She took the left path, pounding over the cobblestone road, accelerating down the slight slope.  Her breath was loud and harsh in her ears, grating in synchronicity with the churning in her stomach.  With a breathless sigh, she stopped, hearing Syaoran's steps take him to her side.  The park opened up to the sky and the harbor, the bay a giant half circle of ships, people and warehouses.  'Left, another mile.  It's the locked up storehouse' came the voice in her head.  She looked up to the rooftops, barely catching a figure leaping between warehouses.  Reaching back, she snatched Syaoran's hand and pulled them both in Nakuru's direction.

Sakura felt the beads of sweat rolling off her head and stream down her face in a mixture of being overheated and anxious.  They'd been running straight for twenty minutes, in which time Yana could've gotten a battalion or two over already.  Even with Nakuru's skills, the chances of success were slim.  Guilt overrode her as she caught sight of Syaoran, the person who was going to risk his life blindly to stop some insane world domination scheme.  But as much as she wanted to send him back, she knew she needed his help.  He was very much like her Syaoran; he wouldn't give up once he'd made a promise, and she wasn't going to waste precious time on trying to convince him otherwise.

The target warehouse was in view, standing innocuously by the bay, chains locking the large double doors, stacks of crates lining the alley by its side.  A faint glimmer of light flickered beyond the darkish windows, the low sound of something like voices from within the cavernous space.  Sakura cursed under her breath, creeping closer to the side entrance.  It was locked as expected, probably secured with a card.  

Nakuru's disembodied voice came from the earpiece.  "I'm on the roof; the portal's open; there's already a battalion out.  No signs of big weapons yet.  Can you get through the door?"

"No; it's probably sealed with a card."  

"We can't waste any time getting you up here.  Use Fire and blast your way in; I'll distract them with a few mist cubes.  Head straight for the tunnel.  Got it?"

Syaoran nodded to Sakura as he extracted the fire card, the red forked lines gleaming innocently back at him.

"Got it.  On three."  Sakura took up Syaoran's card, sticking it to the metal wall.  "One…two…three."  She pulled Syaoran to the side, pressing them flush against the wall.  "Ignite."  There was a small explosion, a bright flash and pull of the displaced wind.  A thick layer of smoky mist crept out of the hole, the voices inside loud and muffled.  "Come on."

Syaoran stood amidst turmoil, the dangerously close running footsteps and military orders drifting through the haze.  Shadows darted around, getting steadily closer to him.  The gun weighed heavy in his hand, the trigger moist and slick with his nervous sweat.  Sakura was right in front of him, her form bleared and indistinguishable in the encompassing soupy fog.  She pulled at him insistently, their matched footsteps taking them closer to a faint glowing blue.  

Shadows stood by the portal, dark, a mass of black.  Sakura paused momentarily, spinning to face Syaoran.  She kept her voice low, barely discernable through the shouting and sounds of fighting around them.  A loud crash sounded behind them where one of the Corpsmen fell.  "We're going to rush them, take them by surprise."

Syaoran nodded and squared his shoulder, hoping his momentum could overpower the thick, muscular build of the defending soldiers.  Sakura nodded once hard, and they both took off toward the portal, slamming hard into two unsuspecting Corpsmen and breaking across the threshold.  It was a strange feeling; Syaoran expected the feel of water, just like how it looked.  Instead it was dry, like a bed sheet passing over his body, the blueness transparent and insubstantial.  All four landed heavily on the smooth ground, sliding a ways off before hitting the tunnel wall.  Syaoran got up slowly, spying Sakura sprawled a few feet off; the Corpsmen were out cold.  "Are you okay, Sakura?"

Sakura groaned and forced herself up against the tunnel wall.  She yelped at the wetness of the wall, the light blue liquid soaking into the back of her shirt.  She'd never taken the time to really look at what she passed through.  The tunnel was partly what she had expected; the walls a round burrowing cave-like length.  And yet, there was the sound of dripping water over the slick blue walls, echoes bouncing along for eternity.  The tunneling generator's energy throbbed along the tunnel, underfoot and above with pulses, bright and dark flowing back and forth, taking light and darkness from the other until they seemed predominantly gray blue.  "Let's go."  The echoes of the approaching army ricocheted heavily from the walls.  Sakura unstrapped the converter from her back, laying the machine gently on the ground.  "Give me the fuel."

Syaoran reached into his pocket, extracting the black cube and handing it over to her.  He could see the silhouettes far off, the approaching battalion.   "Hurry."

Sakura quickly shoved the fuel into its compartment, flicking on the machine.  It whined low as it warmed up, its sounds suddenly drowned out by the pounding loudness of boots.  "Shit, they're too close.  Syaoran, use Shield."

"Here."  Syaoran held out the card to Sakura, the pale blue circle strangely appropriate in the tunnel.

"Thanks."  Sakura smiled up at Syaoran, tenderly.  There was something in his face that she recognized, that made her insides warm up in a way that wasn't painful.  It was the hardness and gravity of his face with that undertone of softness just for her, just like her Syaoran used to look at her…  And she'd be damned if he shared his fate.  

____________________________________________

Nakuru held out her last three mist cubes and watched the battalion from the roof window.  There were twenty soldiers, standing around guarding the portal, picking up and moving crates of weapons, inspecting other devices.  'One' came Sakura's voice in her head.  She blew against the cubes letting the instant haze to descend chokingly into the warehouse.  Sakura's explosion shook the building with a sickening judder, throwing the whole battalion into disarray.  Nakuru pried open the window and poised on the edge for the right moment.  With a flip she landed on a tower of packing crates, the mist swirling at her feet as she looked into the grayness.  

It had to be done the old fashioned way, the messy way.  She gripped her knife and dropped into the fog.  Shadows flew by in the mist, shouts and commands distorted by the altered dimensions of the storehouse's space.  She tried to be as noiseless as possible, creeping up to gray silhouettes and striking quietly, precision deadly.

Sporadic weapons fire breezed by her head, getting closer and closer as the fog started to leak out of the hole in the wall and dissipate.  She activated a shield and hastily climbed up a ladder to the second level, ducking behind a pile of boxes and gathering up the rest of her cards.  The commander downstairs was gathering his troops, back into formation and defensive positioning.  Usually, she'd have just collapsed the whole building, but she couldn't afford to this time with Sakura and Syaoran still inside the tunnel.  Instead she would have to take a hugely dangerous plan of action.

Poised against the metal wall, she activated shield, that familiar presence of electricity and energy surrounding her.  She grabbed another card, the diamond glyph in the center pale pink.  "Illusion," she called as she threw it out in a wide arc above the Corp.  The card twisted and mutated in the air, landing onto the open ground as a replica of herself.  The corps fired at the clone, distracted by the deceptive likeness, their weapons fire pounding against her eardrums.  She crouched low in a shadowed corner and carefully unraveled a bracelet, letting the pearly drops roll in her palm.  It all depended if they had gotten the counter shot.  She carefully rolled them off the landing, dropping neatly onto the concrete floor.  The effusive green gas started to expand as the Illusion card began to flicker and run out of energy.

The corpsmen turned their attention from the false assassin, scanning the building for signs of Nakuru.  A creeping green gas suddenly overwhelmed them just as they sighted her.  Gunfire erupted in Nakuru's direction, striking hard against the wall near her.  She ran, circling around the railing to another vantage point, and flipped quickly onto a forklift.  When the gas had cleared, there were a few corpsmen laying on the ground unconscious; the others had apparently taken the counter and alert on guard.  They spun and circled for any sign of Nakuru.  

Nakuru cursed silently under her breath, wasting no time to pull out some throwing knives from her back pocket and taking aim.  Energy discharges slammed against her shield, head on, with vicious yellow flares as they dissipated before her.  She threw a few knives into the blinding light, knowing by instinct when they found their target or went wide.  Another wave of gunfire crashed into her shield before it failed with a whoosing sound.  She managed to throw one more knife, before a discharge burning across her arm forced her to roll off the forklift and take refuge behind the metal machine.  Raising another shield, she flung herself out from behind the machine and rolled behind a solitary crate, wincing at the burning pain that shot up her arm.  The corpsmen followed with their gunfire, pressing closer and circling in for the final trap.

Nakuru looked desperately at the flickering blue portal, muttering through clenched teeth as she fired back with her own gun.  "Damn it, come on…what the hell's going on Sakura?"

_____________________________________________

Sakura clutched the converter hard against her chest as she spun away from the weapons fire.  The Corps had spotted them and came rushing upon them with energy discharges.  They were still far off, but close enough to send gunshots at the both of them, with deadly precision.  She quickly started to flick the buttons on the converter, watching Syaoran out of the corner of her eye.  He was standing in front of her, firing off randomly at the approaching mass of soldiers.  They evidently had their shields raised, Syaoran's shots doing little to slow their approach.  The tunnel around them screamed with the sounding of gunfire and shouts and marching footsteps.

Syaoran felt the sweat drip down the side of his nose, rapidly clicking the gun and wincing at the soreness that began to overtake his arm.  "Sakura, this isn't working.  They're still coming."

Sakura pressed the final button, the timer blinking at two minutes and counting down.  She turned around to stand up behind Syaoran, overwhelmed by the military battalion a few yards off.  By the sound she knew Syoaran's shield was getting low.  She searched around for options, flinging her gaze around the tunnel and landing on a dark oval spot to her right.  It might be what she thought it was, but if it wasn't…  She scoured the tunnel some more, stopping her eyes abruptly on one of the Corpsmen.  It was Yana, decked out in a military outfit, grinning and thoroughly amused.  Beyond him was another battalion, hauling a large missile.  There was no other option…  "Syaoran, keep them busy."

Syaoran turned his head to Sakura, looking puzzled.  He searched for an answer to his unspoken question, but found nothing readable.  Sakura shifted the device's weight to her hip and pulled out her gun and a cartridge.  She quickly flung the cartridge at the Corps, firing at it until there was the distinct sound of contact and a huge breathing flame.  Projections of fire flew outward, extinguishing with contact with the walls, generating a stifling black smoke cloud.  Syaoran felt Sakura's hand pull him hard, rushing them both into the wall.  His mind flickered the sudden fear of slamming into something hard, sliding his eyes shut.  Instead, he felt the barest sensation of static electricity and then the smooth wet floor against his front.  He opened his eyes to find himself in a tunnel, eerily quiet with the same watery walls and blue speckled light.  "Where'd they go?"

Sakura groaned and pointed behind her.  There was a thin blue translucent kind of glassy veil separating them and the Corps.  The soldiers on the other side had their guns pointed, surveying the area and searching for them.  "Remember I said the tunnels were all forked?  I pulled us into another one."  She propped the converter against the tunnel wall and cast a quick look at the timer, the large red numbers counting to a bare forty-five seconds.  "Shit, we've got to go.  Now."

Syaoran nodded.  "So what do we do?  They're blocking our way."

Sakura breathed a deep breath, shaking her head, a pained expression on her face.  "We're going to have to chance it.  Rush them and run like hell for the portal entrance.  If we're lucky, our shields will hold."

Syaoran steeled himself, looking at the rigidity on Sakura's face.  "Alright.  On three then."  He held out his hand, and Sakura took it, sparing a small smile at him.  "One, two…three."

They ran forward, rushing through the blue veil and crashing into several soldiers.  With desperate attempts at scrambling back to their feet, they bolted toward the pulsing threshold, ignoring the gunfire that pressed so close to their backs that theirs head slicked their skin with sweat.  The seemingly liquid door came up on them like a cold refreshing mirage.  They dived at the iridescent hole and fell through hard back into the warehouse.

It was madness around them, the endless gunfire, the groans of bleeding and battered soldiers, commands on top of commands.  Yellow blasts flew past them and returned from the opposite direction.  Syaoran rolled away from the battle, pulling Sakura along until they were underneath a forklift.  "This is insane."

Sakura nodded in agreement, her eyes fixed on the portal.  It just stood open and innocuous as she counted down the seconds.  If it didn't work…  But suddenly, the calm waves of blue began to change erratically, uncontrolled, tossing and changing colours to a bright green.  It had everyone's attention, fluxing with a crackling sound, throwing irregular flashes of light.  Sakura quickly rolled both she and Syaoran over, facing away from the portal as it burst, collapsing with a horrible roar like that of a jet engine.  A white glare burst into the room, hot and blinding.  The gunfire stopped, only the sounds of boots clanging against metal disturbing the silence.  Sakura looked up at the sound, spying a corpsman climbing the metal ladder to the roof.  She crawled urgently from out under her hiding spot, ignoring Syaoran's low protests.  The soldier was Yana; she couldn't be mistaken from the brown ponytail.  She looked around her in confusion, soldiers staring blindly around.  They felt with their hands, holding them in front of their eyes, moving them close and then far.  But they didn't see anything; they were blinded, for now or permanently, Sakura couldn't care and instead ran towards the base of the ladder.

Syaoran ran after Sakura, trailing her up the ladder, wondering what she was doing.  "Sakura, what are you doing?"

She stopped briefly and looked down at Syaoran's face, hastily scrubbing away a stray tear.  "Fulfilling a promise."

____________________________________________

The roof was a wide, flat expanse of tin sheets and small upright cylindrical chimneys.  The ladder led up onto the northwest corner of the warehouse, overlooking the busy harbor street.  Sakura jumped off onto the ground with a clunk.  Syaoran came up behind her.  "What are you looking for?"

Sakura swept her gaze over the roof, the vast emptiness.  They were at the edge of the warehouse, the drop down to the main harbour road over three stories down.  "Yana…"

"Someone call for me?"  Yana stepped out from an air vent chamber, standing tall in the wind.  The midmorning sun glared down hotly on the metal roof, waving the air with its strange distortion.  

Sakura turned around slowly, pinching off her lips as she stared at Yana's figure.  There was amusement on his face that only made her even more angry.  "I've come to settle this once and for all."

Yana lifted his head up in the air.  "Oh?  Then by all means."

Syaoran watched the exchange with mixed emotions, incredulous that all those evils could be attributed to this man with the stupid grin.  He looked harmless enough, maybe a little more aggravating than any other normal stranger.  And yet the way he looked at Sakura with that mindless contempt and smug superiority, Syaoran knew he could do all those things without repentance, without even a shred of guilt.  Syaoran stepped out in front of Sakura.  "We're stopping you."

Yana was disinterested, raising an eyebrow.  "You two?"  He looked back at Sakura.  "What makes you think he'll fare any better than the other?"

Sakura thinned her lips, taking a small step closer.  "I have faith in him."  She turned to Syaoran and pulled him down for a firm kiss, pressing her lips against his frantically, almost distractingly.  And then with one fluid motion, she pressed a card against the back of his shirt and pushed him hard off the roof.  "Float."  She watched his body sail away from her, the surprised wonderment on his face.  "Find me…" she called after him, before turning back to face Yana.  "Now we do this."

___________________________________________

Syaoran had never liked rollercoasters, the way that the car lurched up and down at speeds that dropped his stomach and rose the strange tingling sensation of nervousness through his whole body.  But he was flying down fast toward the ground, Sakura's feathery hair spread out by the wind getting smaller and smaller as he sped away.

There was wind, different from the one that rushed up his shirt and puffed out his sleeves.  This one had lights, a swirl of small dots and they wrapped around him and pressed against his back, slowing his descent, drifting him down to the ground like a leaf caught in the dying breeze.  Slowly, the world stopped speeding around him, the sheets of aluminum now distinguishable one by one, the heads of the bolts passing across his vision in slow motion.

He felt the ground meet his back softly, as the dots deposited him onto the asphalt road.  It took him a few moments to get himself together before jumping to his feet and staring up at the roof of the warehouse.  "Sakura!"  Only a slight shuddering sound answered him.  His stomach dropped and he knew something was going to go horribly wrong.

_____________________________________________

Sakura felt the wind blow across her fingers, a cool caress against her skin.  She walked closer to Yana, fighting her quivering knees to get nearer, shaking away the anticipation and the fear that swam over her.  "I promised Syaoran I'd stop you.  I'm not letting him down."

Yana only smiled back, extracting a card.  "Unsheathe."  The metal molded into a sword, point polished and sharp.  "You're no match for me."

"Unsheathe."  Sakura stared down at her own sword, grinning faintly at her gray reflection off the burnished steel.  "And what makes you think I'm not."  She viciously flung the sword away, clanging heavily and raucously against the hot roof, sliding to a stop a couple of feet from the edge.  "You poisoned me, remember?  I'm already dead.  What makes you think I give a damn about your games?"

Yana's smile disappeared, holding the sword out in front of him.  "Then let me end your suffering."  He jumped at her, striking out at her chest.

Sakura dodged, rolling away, palms burning on the metal ground.  She pulled her last card, the one she had crept out in the middle of the night and stole from Tomoyo.  The last card she'd ever need.  She flung it against the roof, only the yellow zigzag distinguishable among the background of metal.  "Shield or not, your coming with me.  Collapse."  The card rumbled to life, vibrating and dissolving, the area around it already looking watery and distorted.  

Yana stared at the activated card incredulously and quickly reached into his pocket.  But Sakura took advantage of his slight distraction and bowled into him, knocking the Float card out of his hand.  With every buried scrap of energy she held his hands together over his chest, weighing down his struggling legs with her body.  Given enough time he'd overpower her, but all she needed was a few seconds more.  Collapse was still expanding, the metal underneath them shaking and rattling.  Sakura shot a last look at the sky, smiling softly at the sparse cloud cover.  "It's finally over…"  The last thing she saw was the intense blue of the sky and her Syaoran's smile in her head.

________________________________________________

Syaoran swallowed with difficulty, surrounded by passing workers and other passersby.  The warehouse was rattling with a huge noise, alerting everyone of the impending disaster.  The metal sheets of the walls were buckling, crumpling, nuts and bolts littered the ground as they dropped out of their sockets.  "Sakura," he whispered under his breath.  Any other sound disappeared when the building lurched heavily, groaning as it came down in a mess of support beams and tin plating.

Everyone around him sucked in a collective breath, awed and horrified by the sudden collapse.  He only closed his eyes and turned away, pushing through the developing crowd, drowning out the ambulance and police sirens.  His kept his mind deliberately blank as he made his way back to his apartment.  Turning the keys in the lock and slumping onto his couch, he was painfully aware of the emptiness and silence around him.  But he refused to think of it, instead letting his head rest on a cushion and closed his eyes, sinking into the oblivion of sleep.  Maybe it was all just a horrible dream…

_______________________________________________

Author's Note:  Hmm…that's pretty much it.  Probably a nice short epilogue to tie everything up.  I hope the ending's not too awful, but it really seemed the only way this could end, you know?  And on a sentimental note, I want to say thanks to everyone again.  I guess what with everything getting banned and all, readers that don't flame you and complain to the central administrators about you are the nicest people in the world.  Thanks a million.


	12. Reunion

Author's Notes:  I think it's a miracle; I've finally finished this fic!  It's finally over, just under a year.  No sequel or anything of the sort, sorry.  But I hope everyone's had as much fun with this fic as I had writing it.  

Final thanks to **Aleris**, **Aurora**, **Rhea** (not too far off actually), **Silly*Niecy **(hai, okagesama de.  totemo isogashii desu kara amari kakanai), **Ophie**, **mya** (hehe, you know I'm a sucker for happy-ish endings),  **Mistress Clow Pixie** (sorry, but I had this ending from the beginning and it sorta fits I thought.) .  And big, big thanks to everyone that reviewed this story.

Disclaimer:  If I owned CCS, I'd have made so many great stories on ff.net into manga long ago, but since you don't see any of them in book stores, it's a safe bet I don't own CCS.

Slipping Away 

Chapter 12:  Reunion

Syaoran watched a single car roll past him, taking a turn and disappearing into the idyllic streets of Tomoeda suburban life.  Everything here was quiet, the people that seemed to walk on air, the cars that barely made any noise as they bobbed up and down hills.  And in the middle of this street was what he had never been used to.  Hong Kong, downtown Tomoeda, large cities and lights and sounds and action.  But it was just…quiet.  

He walked down the lane, self conscious of his loud plodding steps.  Houses passed, all identical in their symmetry, their well kept little patches of lawn, the clean little compact cars that parked in the driveways.  Occasionally, bicycles rested on front stoops, leaning carefully on their kickstands.

He counted the numbers as he walked, dwindling toward his destination.  The most normal thing in the world, walking down a quiet street, looking blank and impassive.  But inside, his emotions churned in a tossing chaotic mess, anger and sadness and wonder.  

Four months ago, he helped save the world.  He lost someone he knew was special.  He'd lost good people who sacrificed themselves for people they didn't know.  Gone in the wink of an eye, in dusty rubble down by the bay. 

He flipped the TV on that night, watching the decimated ruins of the warehouse replay on the news.  The anchorwoman asking questions to the public to help identify unidentified men and women in strange uniforms.  He had watched fiercely as the tally of the dead rose with each new beam displaced, each new sheet of metal wrenched off by giant cranes.  The whole scene was a mess, the twisted infrastructure laying on its side like knotted rusty noodles.  Red lights from the police cars spun around the area, glaring off the rippling water, ripping across the exposed surfaces of brick and metal.

The newspapers had a field day with the collapse, front-page headlines screaming of the dangers of building instabilities.  A new board of architects was assembled to guarantee structural integrity all over the city.  And all the while, they picked at the ruins, pulling out bodies and tagging them unidentified in the morgue.  

He remembered the exact time when they found her body.  Dragged out of the deeper debris, cut and broken.  There was fear when he approached the body at the morgue, taking those steps with immovable feet.  But he wanted to see her, just wanted to look at her and say goodbye.  And when the white sheet was drawn back, he found himself transfixed, by the pale, blotched skin, the closed eyes that would never open again, the small mouth that opened just a little.  He almost had the urge to throw up, the waste of her life, the black trail of autopsy stitches that started over her shoulder and trailed down under the cold linen.  He vaguely heard some of the other medical examiners whispering about her insides looking like jelly, but he could only focus on keeping his stomach still and shaking his head when they asked him if she was the person he thought she was.

"You don't know her?"

"N-no, never seen her before.  Must be mistaken.  Sorry."

Syaoran left the morgue dazed, that strange final swing of the ax before the head fell into the basket.  Every fantastic nightmare, every half start, every strange fear of black clad soldiers appearing from a liquid blue wall, was real.  It wasn't something out of a fantasy novel, not an unpleasant daydream.  He had truly fought to save the world, and he had truly both won and lost.  

In the balance were three lives, probably more that he'd never see.  He still kept out hope for Nakuru, just a strange little part of him that knew she couldn't be dead; she was too smart for that.  They never found her body either, even after the last pebbles were swept away into the bay.  He almost expected her to knock on his apartment door or rappel onto his balcony, but she never did.  Never heard a single thing from her again.

And then there was Tomoyo; they'd found her later that afternoon in the warehouse debris farther down the bay.  Or what was left of her; he didn't want to recall the blackened bones; they were too gruesome a thought for this kind of beautiful day.

But it all lead back to Sakura.  Syaoran kept walking his brisk pace, whisking past the lanes of cherry blossoms, the well-kept lawns, the freshly painted post boxes.  And as he got nearer, he could only picture her face as he flew away from her, the single blurred image as he drifted farther and farther.  He could sort of make out her face, screwed up with her iron determination and shadowed by a compassion that probably ran deep underneath the walls of her defenses.  And then her voice, the call, the command directive, 'find me.'

And he did finger her, rigid on the cold metal slab in a city freezer.  His mission was over, and he could settle back into a life that would always seem boring now, back to his apartment that smelled different and the dark reminders of a few empty vials laying crisscrossed over one another on the top of the trash.  He took a sick leave and then returned to work, remembering when he'd worked side by side with her in his office, the scattered wires and solder and metal scrap still all over the bench.

And when he'd fall asleep at night, still feeling empty and tired, he'd still dream of her sailing away from him, shrinking smaller and smaller, her voice still trailing after him, winding around him like a boa constrictor.  'Find me.'  The next morning, he'd always wake up, dry lipped and screaming in his head.  He did find her, what else was there to do?

Night after night, mornings spanning weeks.  Always in search, always the voice and the face.  Until he'd been flipping through his mail one day and a postcard dropped do the floor.  It had just an address, on the back of a plain Tomoeda postcard with a big photogenic flowering cherry blossom tree.  He was tempted to rip it up and throw it out, but he couldn't.  It attracted him, made him feel stupid and awkward.  But he kept it all the same, stuck to the refrigerator, and passed by it for weeks.

Until he'd woken up today, the streaming blue of the sky, the weekend, the haunting voice that lingered in his head.  He just snatched up the keys, ripped the card off the refrigerator and left.  Something was drawing him to something, and he'd learned when something just unexpectedly pops up at you and tells you to do something, you'd just damn well do it, no questions asked.

Syaoran stopped walking, turning swiftly to a small comfortable looking house. The two-story building shone with a haze of suburbia, the small compact car, the bike laid against the wall, the well-tended little patch of lawn. He briefly compared the angular handwriting on the postcard to the curved metal numbers on the door.  His fingers tingled, his head was blank and he only knew his legs were taking him to the door when he'd arrived.  The doorbell echoed through the window and footsteps were banging toward the door.  And as the door swung open, all he could do was stare at her.

So different, different like summer and winter.  She stood there smiling, hair tied up, a rag in her hands, smelling like soap.  But it was Sakura.  "Can I help you?"

Syaoran almost laughed, the funny innocent curious look on her face, a look that the other would've never had.  "Sakura."

Sakura frowned slightly, cocking her head and giving Syaoran a long look.  "Have I met you before?"

Syaoran shook his head slightly.  "Just for a few days."  Faces rose up in his memory, Sakura, Tomoyo, Nakuru standing there hard and unyielding.  And then he could feel the courage rising to do something that the old Syaoran would've never tried.  He leaned in and kissed her.

_____________________________________________

Nakuru smiled from her vantage point at the corner of street.  It'd taken him weeks, but she was glad he finally went and did it or else she'd have had to do something drastic.  One happy ending might as well deserve another.  Now nothing bound her here anymore.  She quirked her unpainted lips and continued to walk down to the bus stop, letting the foreign sensation of her dress flutter against her sides.  Maybe Paris…she'd always wanted to see Paris…

_____________________________________________

Author's Notes:  So that's the end.  Hope the epilogue wasn't too bad.  Won't you write a review?  How was the whole fic?  Anyway, see everyone in another story.  Ja ne.


End file.
